


The Beguile and Devotion of a Black Heir

by StarLight_Massacre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 332,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarLight_Massacre/pseuds/StarLight_Massacre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting for Harry sets him on a path he was never meant to travel. With his eyes opened and the struggle to control the anger inside of him at all of the lies and hidden agendas, a sudden adoption and unlikely allies work to split him from Dumbledore forever. With two Lordships and new responsibilities, how will the Wizarding world react to Lord Harry James Potter-Black, especially when he declares that he won’t fight in their war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enlightenment

Author: StarLight Massacre

 

Title: The Beguile and Devotion of a Black Heir

 

Rating: R

 

Warning: Slash, explicit language, mentions of blood, torture and violence in future chapters, Mpreg.

 

Pairing: Rabastan Lestrange/Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter; all rights go to J. K. Rowling. I make no money for this piece of fictional writing and never will.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

The Beguile and Devotion of a Black Heir

 

Chapter One - Enlightenment

 

Harry rolled over the side of his small, narrow bed until he was sitting up, his eyes darting around the room frantically as he gasped raggedly for breath, his heart beating a mile a minute as he tried to calm himself down.

He swallowed back the acidic bile that was climbing its way up his constricting throat, his Uncle would be absolutely furious if he actually vomited on any floor of his house. Not to mention that it would likely be him cleaning it all up after he’d been shouted at and sprayed with saliva for an hour. Not a thought he relished.

He was drenched in a cold sweat that made him shiver uncontrollably even as he furiously kicked the thin, tangled blanket that he had covered himself with last night from his body, ripping it from where it was pinned underneath himself, despite the fact that it made him shiver harder. He swallowed hard past a fear clogged throat and breathed slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth, his mind racing around the nightmare that he’d been forced to suffer through.

Dragging a hand over his face to get rid of the chilling sweat, Harry’s hand found its way up to his damp hair, the messy tufts sticking up even more than normal through the amount of sweat he’d produced that had slicked it in all angles while he’d tossed and turned, caught in the nightmare that he’d been unable to wake from.

The reoccurring, horrific dream had been about Sirius, his beloved Godfather, who had died just days before the end of the last school year, only a few short weeks ago, and the memories of it, the emotions he felt, were still so raw and painful. He swallowed and stood up from where he was sat on the side of the bed, he had to get out of this house, he had to get out, being trapped and locked up in this house with his disgusting, hateful relatives was driving him insane, but he’d been told inexplicitly that he was not allowed to leave the safety of Privet Drive by Dumbledore at the end of the last year. He had also seen for himself the guard that he had continuously around the clock, more than likely Order of the Phoenix people, who were always watching the house, always watching him and likely reporting every single move and sound that he made back to Dumbledore.

Harry wondered how heavy his night guard was when they logically thought that he was in his bed, fast asleep. He kicked open his trunk and dug out some clean clothes, dressing himself quickly before grabbing his wand and his money pouch, making sure that he had his Gringotts vault key in his pocket twice, just in case.

He needed to get out of here, out of this horrid, clinical, hateful house, just for a few hours, a bit of retail therapy around Diagon Alley, having a bit of exposure to the magical world that he’d all but been cut off from, and he’d feel less trapped, less enclosed, he was sure.

He slipped his peeling trainers onto his feet, both socks had holes in them, and he cracked open his bedroom door. His Uncle had stopped locking him in when Harry had ‘casually’ mentioned that he had a guard watching him at all hours, day and night.

Harry first went into Dudley’s bedroom. His cousin’s snoring was so loud that Harry didn’t even bother being quiet as he crossed the large bedroom to his cousin’s dresser. He eased open the top drawer and snatched a few of the notes lying scrumpled up inside. He didn’t take too many, if he had taken them all then Dudley would have known, but if he only took a few then Dudley wouldn’t even notice them missing, which was sad as Harry would have given anything for a few pennies as a child, even if he couldn’t have spent them, he could have still played with them and known that he had _something_ of monetary value, even if it was just a penny.

Harry walked back out of Dudley’s room and slipped down the stairs, he knew logically that his guard wouldn’t be sat on the doorstep or behind his Aunt’s begonia bushes; they were more likely going to be in the corner of the front garden, where the two garden walls met, where they weren’t likely to be found or accidentally trodden on and they’d be under one of Moody’s invisibility cloaks so they wouldn’t be seen by anyone who cared to look into his relatives front garden. Harry easily outsmarted them, he went out of the back door and fence hopped over the Dursley’s fence, over the neighbour’s fence, going around Wisteria Walk, thus avoiding Mrs Arabella Figg, not that he expected her to be up at five in the morning, but it was better to be cautious, just in case and he set off in the direction of Surrey town.

The only thing that could ruin his break for freedom now would be if it was Moody himself who was on guard tonight, thus he’d probably have his magical eye trained on him, but he’d gotten this far already, so he hoped that it wasn’t Moody on guard duty tonight. He really needed this moment of freedom.

Harry slipped down Magnolia Road and past the park and revelled in the early morning air. He was feeling better already and the lingering effects of his reoccurring nightmares that had been plaguing him for the last month were eased away with the fresh air. He couldn’t believe that he was out in the open and as he walked further and further away from Privet Drive, he found his breath coming easier and more steady from the attack of emotions that had woken him up early that morning. Pain, fear and horror had grown and grown inside of him as he tossed and turned in his dreams until he had woken like a shot, only to be confronted with the lingering emotions and the pain of his reality.

He still couldn’t believe that Sirius was gone, his last official family member and he had nothing to remember him by, just a few memories and his beloved Firebolt which he took excessively good care of. He treated it at least once a week and waxed it until he was sure he would slide right off of it if he were to actually fly it, but the polished ebony handle gleamed in the light, he made sure to buff the goblin made iron work on the frame until his elbows ached and it always looked utterly pristine with not a birch tail twig out of place. Every time he so much as looked at it he would smile and he could see Sirius and he would remember that Sirius had bought this for him, he had touched it and he had wanted him to have it. It helped him feel closer to the memory of the man that he could no longer see, touch or talk to.

It was nearing quarter past six in the morning when he made it to Surrey town from his leisurely walk and he went into the nearest open café and got himself a coffee. Sirius had always drank coffee, from morning until night, Harry hardly ever saw him drinking anything else when he actually had a choice in the matter, and when Harry had asked why he drank so much of it his Godfather had let out that bark like laugh that always made Harry smile and told him that it was to keep himself awake and functioning.

His ordered coffee was hot and bitter, despite how much sugar he’d put into it, but he forced it down and went to the train station, he was going to stay in London for as long as he possibly could and he was going to need the coffee to keep himself awake while he shopped. He hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately, so he was going to need a lot of coffee.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

An hour later found Harry in central London. The train ride had taken him just forty minutes and he remembered exactly how to get from the train station to Diagon Alley from his trip with Hagrid when he was eleven. He was tapping bricks before eight in the morning and he couldn’t believe how good he felt just being out in the open air and really, it just felt better because he’d been told that he wasn’t allowed to leave the Dursleys house. He was done with being told what to do, how dare anyone think that they knew what was best for him! He knew himself and he knew what was best for himself better than anyone else and he would not allow others to push him around just because they believed that they had the right to.

He came into Diagon Alley as it was still quiet and sleepy, shops were only just open and there were yawning witches and wizards here or there, but the bustle of the last months of the summer was not here, not at this hour of the morning, not yet.

Harry went to a small, out of the way eatery, Harry wanted to call it a café, but it was just too small, it had just three, two seater tables and one small stretch of counter and a tired old man yawning behind it on a firm, solid and padded chair.

 

“Good morning.” Harry said cautiously.

 

“What’s so damned good about it?” The old man grumbled, but he smiled at him regardless.

 

“I suppose I deserved that.” He allowed wryly.

 

“Ignore me; I’m a grumpy old man with too many pains and not enough potions to cover them all. What can I do you for?”

 

“I was looking for a place to have a drink and maybe something to eat while I wait for Gringotts to open for business.” Harry answered.

 

“Come in then, what do you prefer to drink?”

 

“I believe I need some toast and I think I need coffee to stay awake this early. I tried some earlier and it wasn’t all that nice.”

 

“First time? Coffee’s an acquired taste, much like Firewhiskey. The more you drink it, the more you fool your brain into liking it.”

 

Harry laughed as he pulled a chair up to the counter and sat opposite the man, who merely waved his wand and clinking and tinkering sounded from the room through a door behind him.

 

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are, everyone knows Harry Potter, even if you age and grow, that scar will always be there. What business can you have at Gringotts, unless you mean to claim your Lordship early? Most little Lords do you know.”

 

“What Lordship?” Harry asked curiously as he took a cautionary sip of the deep mug that had landed in front of him, it was strong and sweet and much better than the coffee flavoured sugar water he’d bought that morning. He was never going back to that coffee shop again.

 

“Your Father was Lord James Potter, his Father was Lord Charlus Potter before him, surely you have been told this?”

 

Harry shook his head as he nibbled on his lightly browned toast. It was buttered just the way he liked it.

 

“I don’t understand why you haven’t been told, it is your birth right after all, you should have at least been told and taught about what it entails, even if you are too young to claim it without a special request from the goblins.”

 

“What is a Lordship?” Harry asked curiously.

 

“All Pureblood families have a Lordship, a seat on the Wizengamot and a voice in the Ministry, surely you know this?”

 

Harry shook his head with a frown. “I don’t know any of this, there’s nothing about this at Hogwarts.”

 

“They won’t tell you in school, school is for general learning and only a single handful in that school will even have a little Lord who will claim their Father’s Lordship upon his death. Who is your guardian? He should have told you all about this.”

 

“My guardians are Muggles.”

 

“Not those guardians!” The man snapped impatiently. “Your guardian in the wizarding world.”

 

“I…I don’t think I have one.” Harry said with a frown.

 

“Of course you do, all little Lords have a guardian if their parents have passed. They need one to tell them about all the things they need to know; the running of their house, their responsibilities in the Ministry and the Wizengamot, how to manage their family and their finances, that sort of stuff.”

 

“I’ve never met mine.” Harry said thinking hard.

 

“You must have. It’s usually a Godparent, though I heard of the mess with yours, anyone could have lain claim to you as theirs after that, though I believe someone would have stopped just anyone from claiming you, as special as you are, so I believe the Headmaster of your school would have taken over, that spineless Minister for Magic, Fudge wouldn’t have stood up to or stopped him, so Dumbledore should have told you all of this.”

 

Harry frowned hard, trying to remember if Dumbledore had said anything about him being a Lord, or his Father being a Lord. He was sure he would have remembered being told that he would one day be a Lord. But then surely Sirius would have told him about this as his Godfather, or at least mentioned it to him, but then Sirius hadn’t been in his right mind and half of the very short, limited time they had actually spent together they’d been getting to know one another after Sirius’ wrongful imprisonment which didn’t leave much time for such…seemingly, trivial things.

 

“I would remember being told such things.” Harry said softly. “No one has ever so much as mentioned it to me.”

 

“Then someone somewhere has done you a grave insult and a serious injustice too. That someone would have his arse parked in your seat on the Wizengamot.”

 

“Are people allowed to hold two seats?”

 

“They can only have two seats if they’re the Lord of two houses, very rarely that happens, those Purebloods always make sure that they have an Heir to pass their seat to and failing that there’s always a lesser male Heir to take the seat, though if the Heir is also the only child to another Pureblood family, they could then claim two seats when their Father passes his Lordship onto his son.”

 

“Doesn’t Dumbledore have his own seat? Isn’t he the Chief Warlock or something, why would he need my seat too?”

 

“Who says he needs it?” The old man grunted. “Could be he just doesn’t want you in it.”

 

“But why?” Harry said with a considering frown.

 

“I say ask the goblins, they’ll sort you out, but only if you ask for their help, vile beasts that they are, they won’t do anything for anyone unless they beg like a common Muggle, but they’re still very shrewd and they’re always willing to help for a price.”

 

Harry scowled at hearing the man calling the goblins vile beasts, but he said nothing. This man had helped him and Harry knew all too well the views that some people in the magical world held of what they considered as ‘lesser beings.’ It disgusted him, but just this once, he held his tongue.

 

“Thank you for the advice.” Harry said as he handed the last few Galleons in his money pouch to the old man. “And for the toast and coffee too, but you’ve given me a lot to think about and I really need to see the goblins now, for more than what I bargained for it seems.”

 

“You tell them that you want to claim your Lordship early, they won’t do squat all if you don’t turn around and tell them what to do and then you get yourself to Flourish and Blotts and get yourself books on Lordships to help you.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding and he waved away the few silver Sickles that the man tried to hand him as he left. He really did have a lot to think about and now that he had a real agenda for being here today, he strode purposefully towards the bank, for more than just the quick withdrawal from his vault that he’d been planning on earlier that morning. He’d only wanted to do a bit of shopping and get some retail therapy done, why did these things always happen to him?

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

He was sat in an office, it was quite bare really, but he was here to ‘validate his claim’ whatever the hell that meant, maybe he should have gone to Flourish and Blotts first, but then he wasn’t the fastest of readers and he only had today to do this, he had no doubts that the end of month rush for school supplies would leave him very little time to do much other than to actually get just his school supplies. It would be too busy and too hectic to do anything else and with the Weasleys watching over him like a hawk and Ron always trailing after him too, this would likely be his only chance to get this sort of thing done.

He’d done as the man in the small café had told him to do, he’d told the goblins why he was there and what he wanted, as politely and respectfully as he could manage. Just because he had to tell them that he wanted something, didn’t mean he had to do it rudely or disrespectfully, especially as he had a very high respect for the goblins.

His leg was bouncing nervously as he waited and he couldn’t seem to help thinking that he’d made a mistake, what if the old man had been wrong or was just playing him for a fool? What if he wasn’t a Lord at all? After all he’d never heard of anyone in the wizarding world being a Lord, surely if all Purebloods were Lords then Malfoy would have at least tried to rub his nose in it.

Before he could really work himself up the door opened and he jumped as a particularly gruesome looking goblin waddled in and slammed the door shut again before climbing onto the chair behind the desk.

 

“You wish to claim your Lordship early, I hear. What makes you think that you deserve it early?” The goblin demanded of him.

 

Harry blinked and rubbed his sweaty palms on his ripped and worn, far too big, baggy jeans.

 

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know anything about it an hour ago.” Harry explained nervously.

 

The goblin reared back and blinked in shock.

 

“You weren’t told?” He demanded angrily.

 

Harry shook his head. “A stranger told me that I should come here and claim my Lordship, but before then I had no idea about it.”

 

Snarling, the goblin snapped his fingers harshly and loudly, making Harry flinch. Nothing happened to him, but a large pile of parchment appeared on the desk and the goblin completely ignored Harry in order to read through the stack in front of him.

Bewildered, nervous and not entirely sure he should have mentioned anything, Harry sat restlessly opposite the goblin and his leg started bouncing again, but he also started getting angry, that small build-up of cold fury he’d been getting every now and then, ever since Sirius had died a few weeks before. He’d only felt this cold rage a few times before then and all of those times had happened during the last year and had been to do with Voldemort. He tried to calm himself, getting angry at the goblins would yield nothing, except perhaps get him thrown out of the bank, wouldn’t that be a lovely spectacle for the people on the street? Not to mention the office building for the Daily Prophet newspaper was just around the corner.

He breathed as evenly and deeply as he could, trying to dispel the rage that he felt growing inside of him, his knee jumping more vigorously as he bounced it harder against the floor.

 

“Your guardian is one, Albus Dumbledore. Is this information correct?” The goblin said suddenly, startling Harry.

 

“I…yes…I don’t know.” Harry bumbled. “The stranger told me that Dumbledore was my guardian, but I wasn’t told that before either, I thought he was just my Headmaster. I didn’t know what a magical guardian was.”

 

The goblin bared his teeth and stood up and left. Harry wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do so he just sat where he had been left, bouncing his foot against the floor. He couldn’t believe this was happening; he’d only come here for a quick withdrawal, but one short meeting with a complete stranger had him here for other reasons and now he was stuck, floundering, unsure of anything and everything that was happening around him, despite these happenings being about himself.

The door slammed open once more and the goblin came back into the room and sat back behind his desk, snatching up more parchment and reading angrily, flipping pages over to read those underneath it.

 

“What’s happening?” Harry asked quietly, even though he wanted to shout, scream and rage, demanding answers from the goblin in front of him.

 

“I have contacted the Ministry and have informed them of this case of Lordship neglect, they are sending one of the Lords involved in the Wizardry Protection Movement. We will proceed once he has arrived.”

 

“What’s that?” Harry asked curiously.

 

The goblin gave him such a look that Harry regretted ever opening his mouth.

 

“Do you have no idea of anything of the world in which you are a part of?” The goblin demanded furiously.

 

“I…” Harry swallowed and shook his head. “No. I don’t know anything about this sort of stuff, I was never told and it’s not taught at Hogwarts.”

 

The goblin snorted. “That’s a surprise.” He said nastily, but he countered his harsh tone and sneer by grabbing a small piece of memo parchment and scrawling a list on it. “Buy these books and read them carefully, repeatedly if you must.” He all but ordered and all Harry could do was nod.

 

A sharp knock on the door had the goblin barking out an order for whoever it was to enter. Harry leapt to his feet when a pristine and regal looking Lucius Malfoy walked through the door.

 

“What’s he doing here?” He all but snarled.

 

Lucius Malfoy raised a perfect, platinum blond eyebrow. He was wearing glorious robes in resplendent dark blue and every stitch screamed wealth and propriety as his usual snake headed cane, which concealed his wand, was held in a gloved hand and even they weren’t simple gloves, but made from high quality dragonhide, dyed a blue that perfectly matched his robes of the day.

 

“I happen to be the lucky wizard chosen to come and enlighten you as to your role in our world, Mister Potter.” Lucius told him silkily. “As a founding member of the Wizardry Protection Movement it is my sworn duty to help young wizards who are struggling to come to terms with Pureblood etiquette and the running and ruling of their house.”

 

“What house?” Harry asked with narrowed eyes. As far as he knew he didn’t have any houses.

 

Lucius Malfoy sighed. “I understand now why you asked for assistance, Nagnok. Do you know anything about your heritage, Mister Potter?”

 

“What heritage?” Harry asked, deflating a little, but he kept his hand on his wand.

 

“Sit down.” Lucius ordered as he sat in the second chair gracefully. “We are going to be here for a long while I imagine.”

 

Harry carefully eased himself into the seat beside Lucius Malfoy, but he remained on guard, he was burning with curiosity, but not enough to forget that this man was dangerous, though he hoped he knew the man enough to know that he wouldn’t attack him in a bank, even if they were in a private office. Lucius Malfoy cared for his public appearance after all and had been deeply embarrassed when Mister Weasley had attacked him in Flourish and Blotts four years ago now.

 

“How much do you know about Lordships?” Lucius asked him.

 

Harry shrugged. “Nothing, a stranger told me that I should come to claim my Lordship, so that’s what I did.”

 

Lucius sighed, Harry watched him closely as he put his cane down, he noticed with curiosity that Malfoy had put the cane down on the table in front of him, but the snake head, and thus his wand, was aimed at him and as Malfoy tugged his gloves off of long, nimble fingers, Harry wondered why the man had put his wand out of his immediate reach. He would be able to draw his wand on the elder man before Malfoy even touched the snake head of the cane…was that perhaps why he had done such a thing? As ridiculous as it sounded, the only reason Harry could think of was that Lucius Malfoy was trying to put him at ease and give him subtle signs to show that he wasn’t going to just up and attack him in the bank.

 

“So you believed this stranger, who just wandered up to you and blurted out that you should come and claim a Lordship that you had never heard about and you just did what he asked?”

 

It was Harry’s turn to sigh. “No. I was having coffee with him while I waited for the bank to open this morning and he wanted to know why I was in Diagon so early, so I told him I was coming here and he asked me if it was to claim my Lordship early. The conversation went from there.”

 

“We need to validate your claim, but you are underage so we need the permission of your guardian first before we can proceed.”

 

“My guardians are Muggles and wouldn’t even come here under threat of death and Dumbledore was the one who was supposed to tell me about this stuff in the first place and he didn’t.” Harry said heatedly.

 

“He has a fair point, Nagnok, perhaps I should stand in as his guardian, after all, I am a founding member of the Wizardry Protective Movement, it is my duty to help and protect young wizards, to educate them. That Mister Potter doesn’t even know about his own Lordship is very neglectful, think of the power and influence that Dumbledore gains from holding Mister Potter’s proper titles from him…why, it is almost criminal.”

 

The goblin nodded and snapped his fingers once again and a box appeared in front of him. He opened it and took out an empty vial and one filled with a strange liquid.

 

“I will need your blood.”

 

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, his brows lowering.

 

“Blood never lies.” The goblin told him. “Potions can be messed with, appearances may not be what they seem, mannerisms can be learnt, but blood never lies.”

 

“Simply prick your finger and place a few drops of blood into the empty vial.” Lucius Malfoy told him smoothly.

 

Harry looked at him strangely. “How do I make myself bleed?”

 

“Surely you know the charm to make a small cut? What is Hogwarts teaching you children these days?”

 

Harry went red cheeked and silently fumed. He startled when the snake headed cane vanished just on the edge of his vision and he heard Malfoy sigh before his hand was snatched by one of those long fingered, pale hands and Malfoy had his wand out in his other hand. Before Harry could so much as react or give him a good kick, the tip of his index finger was split open with a small, three centimetre long cut and Malfoy caught the small flow of blood into the empty vial before another simple charm healed his finger again perfectly, not so much as a red mark to show where the cut had been moments before.

Harry fumed silently as he stuck his finger into his mouth to suck off the remaining blood. Malfoy scowled at him, he was holding out a square of cloth, a handkerchief, but he slipped it back into his pocket as Harry glared at him defiantly, still sucking the traces of blood off of his healed skin. Harry wasn’t that stupid, he wasn’t giving his blood to Malfoy of all people.

He watched suspiciously as Malfoy inserted his wand back into the cane and clunked it back onto the desk; the snake head was again facing Harry.

He turned back to the goblin who had mixed the strange liquid in the second vial with his blood before shaking it vigorously and then tapping it with the tip of his finger, which he then tapped on a piece of large parchment.

Harry watched in fascination as runes started spreading out over the parchment, he wished he could read them. The goblin, Nagnok, then uncorked the vial and tipped it over the parchment and Harry was amazed when it started forming letters and then words.

 

“Harry James Potter, born in July of nineteen-eighty to James Doran Potter and Lily Potter née Evans.” Nagnok read out questioningly.

 

Harry bobbed his head. “That’s right.”

 

“You were legitimised on the twenty-sixth of September nineteen-eighty, correct?”

 

“Legitimised? What does that mean?” Harry asked, looking from Nagnok to Malfoy in confusion.

 

“Your Father wanted you to have the Potter Lordship, which he couldn’t have given to you if you had remained a Halfblood, so he had you legitimised by naming an appropriate Pureblood as your Godfather.” Lucius replied smoothly. “If you marry an appropriate Pureblood, then the Potter line will remain in the Pureblood Directory, if you marry someone who isn’t a Pureblood, then the Potter family will be taken from the Directory and your children will be unable to claim your Lordship when you pass and it will fall into the hands of the Ministry unless you declare your seat voided.”

 

“What if I name a Pureblood as their Godfather?” Harry asked thinking of Ron.

 

“As you yourself are not fully pure and your spouse will not be pure either, then your children cannot be legitimised whereas if you marry a Pureblood, you may then be allowed to legitimise all children you have to claim them as Pureblooded, the lines of the Potter family will remain unbroken, they will be bent a little due to your Muggleborn Mother, but still legally pure as she was still a witch and not a squib or a Muggle.”

 

Harry’s head spun with all this new information and he nodded his understanding. He wasn’t planning on marrying anyone for a long while, so he had time to figure out how important this Lordship was and if he wanted to pass it down to his maybe children.

 

“Why does me being legitimised show up on a blood test?” Harry asked instead.

 

“To fully legitimise you, your chosen Godfather would have given his blood to you, so his blood, which was pure, would run through your veins to a lesser extent than your parents’ blood, to make up for your Mother’s impure blood, but it is still picked up by the blood test administered.”

 

Harry nodded again.

 

“With the recent passing of the Black Heir, Sirius, who was named your Godfather on the twenty-sixth of September fifteen years ago, you also have the most legal claim to the Black Lordship.”

 

Harry felt Lucius Malfoy stiffen beside him and his hand slid down further to touch his wand handle instead of merely hovering over it, just in case.

 

“Would you claim this as well?”

 

“I don’t even know what they are.” Harry sighed exasperated.

 

“I would advise you to claim them both.” Malfoy told him, completely surprising Harry. “Draco is a candidate for the Black Lordship through his Mother’s side, but as Black’s actual blood runs through your veins as his Godson, you are the closest thing to an actual son that he had before his passing. Draco needs to focus on his studies more, I fear a Lordship would be…ill-suited to him at the moment.”

 

“Why not just let him have it?” Harry asked curiously, wondering why the hell Malfoy was passing this opportunity over. “It must be a huge honour from what the man in the café was saying for someone to have one Lordship, let alone two.”

 

“It is, but it is yours by rights and I would prefer that Draco focused more on his studies. He is already very distracted lately, it seems he spends more and more time with his little friends than he does studying and his subject grades are…declining.”

 

“He and Pansy were getting very close last year, a Ravenclaw swore she saw them coming out of a broom cupboard all mussed up.”

 

Lucius Malfoy’s eyes widened slightly and his nostrils flared, but that was the only outward sign he gave that he’d even heard Harry.

 

“How would you know of these things?” He asked smoothly, seemingly unable to ignore the conversation now that it had started playing on his mind.

 

“Things like that don’t stay a secret at Hogwarts. There were stories too about Pansy taking early morning visits to Madam Pomfrey; apparently she’d had a pregnancy scare.”

 

That got Harry the tightening of a fist and he saw the visible effort it took the elegant man opposite him to keep from immediately standing and leaving to chase down Draco and demand the truth from him.

 

“Thank you for informing me of this behaviour, I’ll be sure to correct Draco of his wrong doing and inform Lord Parkinson of his daughter’s behaviours and advise that she has a purity test done, such loose, sleazy behaviour is beneath Purebloods. Her betrothal match will reflect her behaviour accordingly.”

 

“Draco isn’t the worst, just the most sought after. Blaise Zabini is the worst; he’ll sleep with anything that so much as moves.”

 

“If we could get back on track.” The goblin demanded.

 

“So I’d have two Lordships, the Potter and the Black?” Harry questioned after a long silence. “Why did no one tell me this before?! No one has so much as mentioned it in passing to me, not even Sirius.”

 

“They obviously didn’t want you to know.” Lucius told him simply. “All of the sacred Pureblood families have a seat on the Wizengamot; did it never occur to you to ask why Dumbledore, a Halfblood, was the Chief Warlock when he had no rights to a seat?”

 

“No.” Harry replied easily.

 

Lucius sighed. “Dumbledore is using your own seat to preside from, in your name of course. If you claimed your Lordship, he’d have to…step aside, to make room for you. I don’t believe that he’d enjoy relinquishing such power and then to have a new Chief Warlock voted in, one that perhaps won’t be deep in his pocket and willing to play puppet to him. After all, nearly every person on the Wizengamot is Pureblooded; only certain exceptions are made, as the Heads of all _reputable_ departments also have a Wizengamot seat.”

 

“So he’s sat in the seat that I should be in? Who has the Black seat?”

 

“It’s currently being held by Dumbledore too as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, fancy that.” Lucius sneered. “Two seats that you should have control over are being presided over by him and he didn’t even tell you about them.”

 

Harry’s hand clenched tight as the fury rose in him again. Even if he didn’t know what to do with his two seats, he didn’t want Dumbledore to have them. It would serve him right for locking him back up with the Dursleys after Sirius’ death and ordering him not to leave the house and ordering him not to send out any owls or for his friends to send any to him.

 

“I want to claim my Lordship, both of them.” He said firmly.

 

Nagnok nodded. “We will set this up for you, for a fee of course.”

 

“I think I have enough in my vault to pay a fee, I don’t think I’ll spend all that gold on school things when I only have two more years left.”

 

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked him carefully.

 

“The vault I have here, I think there’s more than enough gold in there to see me through the next two years of schooling and to pay a fee.”

 

Lucius sighed. “This is much worse than I feared. I take it that no one has told you the difference between house vaults and trust vaults.”

 

Harry frowned. “I…no.”

 

“The vault that you are using now would be a trust vault, money laid aside for your use by your parents. Your Father, as Lord Potter, would have had control of the house vault, which would be considerably larger than a mere trust vault, he would then lay aside trust vaults for all those in his house and supply the trust vault with a sum of money, he could choose a lump sum or he could choose to top it up weekly, monthly or yearly with a fixed sum for however many years he wished to, which would then be taken from the main house vault. With his death and with you being so young, that vault would have been sealed off until you either came of age or claimed your Lordship.”

 

Harry swallowed hard. He felt sick to his very stomach. “No one told me that either.”

 

“After fifty years have passed and no one has claimed them, then anything inside the vault goes to the Ministry. The Potter vault has been sealed now for fifteen years already; I can’t begin to imagine the amount of interest that that has stacked up over the last decade and a half.”

 

“It is a substantial amount.” Nagnok nodded. “Lord Potter and his Lady Wife rarely touched the house vault and Lord Potter chose to deposit a lump sum into a trust vault for his son. I believe they only took out what they needed for food and small items and Lord Charlus and his Lady Wife left their son a vast amount to begin with after their untimely passing. If we add in the considerable Black family vault too, which has been sealed for eleven years after the passing of Lady Walburga Black, then you are a very wealthy young wizard.”

 

“Sirius was using his bank vault.” Harry pointed out confusedly.

 

“Sirius was the rightful Heir, but he never claimed his Lordship after his Father passed away and neither did he claim the house vault after his Mother passed away six years later.” Lucius told him patiently. “I believe he was still using his more than considerable trust vault.”

 

“Oh.” Harry felt overwhelmed and a little shocky.

 

“I understand that this is a lot to take in.” Lucius told him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

 

Harry reacted violently and he all but shoved the man’s hand off of him.

 

“Don’t touch me. You have no right to touch me!” Harry shouted, his mind flashing to the events of the graveyard and those of the Department of Mysteries, where Sirius had died that night.

 

“As you wish.” Lucius said silkily. “If we could hurry this meeting along, Nagnok.”

 

“Of course, Lord Malfoy. Now that we have validated who you actually are and that you are Harry James Potter, Heir to the Potter and Black families, we can now start the claiming process.”

 

“What do I need to do?”

 

“This will disrupt your education.” Lucius cut in. “Meetings can be called at any time of day, though we do tend to wait until the next morning if a situation occurs in the night, unless it is gravely urgent of course and cannot wait, but you will be given your Lordship rings and when they heat up, you are to make your way straight to the Ministry for a meeting, one that cannot start until everyone called arrives. Your professors cannot stop you from going to these meetings, but likewise you will not be allowed to slack off on your education, you will have to work doubly hard at your studies than everyone else in that school.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding, he was sure that Hermione would be thrilled if he started taking more interest in his studies.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Can you handle such a workload?”

 

“What does being on the Wizengamot actually entail?”

 

“You will need to give your vote to laws and proclamations that you feel should or shouldn’t be passed; you will need to pass judgement on criminals brought before the Wizengamot based on the reports we are given and the trials we witness and discuss matters brought before the Wizengamot by members of the public, among other things.”

 

“So it’s all of our own opinions?” Harry asked a bit relieved.

 

“There are certain politics to be observed as well.” Lucius told him. “For example, Bellatrix Lestrange is a daughter of house Black, Lord Orion Black, when he was living, couldn’t go against Lord Xerxes Lestrange without damaging his daughter’s union to one of Lord Lestrange’s grandsons.”

 

“So it’s all political rubbish to do with marriage and stuff?” Harry pulled a face of distaste.

 

Lucius smiled. “My Wife is a daughter of house Black as well; you are the new Lord Black.”

 

“I won’t be deferring to anyone.” Harry said stubbornly. “If you don’t like your Wife now after all these years and with Draco too then that’s your problem and I couldn’t give a fuck about Bellatrix having a happy union, she can go die for all I care.”

 

Lucius actually chuckled and nodded to Nagnok. “Let us wrap this up, Nagnok and then I can take Mister Potter to buy the books that he needs.”

 

“I have all of the legal documents here, fully written out.”

 

“When did you do that?” Harry asked in amazement.

 

“When you first asked to claim your Lordship earlier this morning.” Nagnok replied as if Harry were particularly stupid.

 

“Now now, Mister Potter is quite ignorant of all of these proceedings, we need to be patient with him.”

 

The goblin nodded and snapped his fingers and a stack of parchment appeared before him.

 

“You just need to sign here.”

 

Lucius’ hand intercepted his as he went to pick up a very familiar black quill with an abnormally sharp point.

 

“Never sign anything without reading it first, you stupid boy.” Lucius chastised him. “What if you didn’t like the terms? What if the other party have verbally agreed to do something that isn’t in the formal document? What if you are signing away everything you own on the trust you hold for someone that you’ve known for all of five minutes? Read everything before you sign it, even from someone you trust and have known for sixty years, even if it’s your own Wife or child. You _always_ read everything before you sign it.”

 

Harry swallowed and nodded, feeling very foolish, but he picked up the first page from the large stack of parchment and he started reading it slowly and carefully. He had never been a fast reader.

It took him an hour before he finally finished the last page and he felt very self-conscious and embarrassed that he’d kept Lucius Malfoy and a Gringotts goblin waiting quietly for a whole hour while he read through everything, trying his hardest to understand it.

 

“Did you understand half of what you read?” Lucius asked him knowingly.

 

Harry shook his head, feeling even more humiliated, but he saw no point in lying. He hadn’t understood a lot of what he had read on those pages. Lucius hummed and Harry only just noticed then that as he had put a page down, Lucius had picked it up to read it.

 

“This is all in order, nothing I didn’t expect.” He said. “You’re free to sign if you’re willing to accept full Lordship for both the Potter and the Black houses and responsibility for both house vaults, all trust vaults attached to them and responsibility for all patrons connected to your houses.”

 

“Will…will you find me a book that helps me understand the things that I didn’t know? Just in case I need to do something like this again in the future.” Harry forced himself to ask, feeling sick with himself just for asking something of this person, but Malfoy had offered him no aggression or violence, he was just sat there, helping him. It galled him.

 

“Of course I will.” Lucius agreed amiably.

 

Harry picked up the quill and scowled at it, his hand clenching around it tight.

 

“This quill will be unlike anything that you have ever used before.” Lucius told him. “It is used for signing official documents only and it will draw blood from you as you write. As you’ve likely figured out, blood is very important to magic, so naturally all legal, binding, magical contracts are signed in blood.”

 

“I have used a quill like this before, last year.” Harry said grumpily.

 

“I fail to understand how.” Nagnok said. “Only Gringotts and the Heads of each department at the Ministry of Magic are allowed to even have one of them. There are only a handful of them in use at any one time. The loss of one is punishable by a hefty fine and even suspension and loss of position at the Ministry of Magic. One has not been lost in several decades, nor has one of these quills been given to Hogwarts school. They are heavily regulated and all of them are tracked regularly to make sure that they are where they’re supposed to be and with the person that they’re supposed to be with.”

 

“What did you sign with one of these quills? Was it for Dumbledore?” Lucius asked him a bit frantic.

 

Harry frowned at them both. “No. Umbridge.”

 

“What did you sign for that woman?” Lucius demanded. “She had no reason to ask you to sign anything, least of all in a magically binding document signed with blood.”

 

“She wasn’t making me sign anything; she was forcing me to write lines with it during detention.”

 

 Lucius looked aghast. Harry was confused, why did the man care so much? Why was he helping him, he wasn’t sure what the hell was going on here, his brain was telling him that he should be careful, that he should be afraid, but his body was refusing to react. He felt at ease, curious and overwhelmed sure, but he didn’t feel like he was in any danger.

 

“Didn’t Draco tell you?” Harry frowned harder.

 

“I sincerely doubt that he knew.”

 

“He was part of her Inquisitorial Squad that year, of course he knew, he was even there when she threatened to use the Cruciatus curse on me to get information that she wanted from me, I bet he never told you that either.”

 

The look on Lucius’ face told Harry that he didn’t know about that either, he tried to hide that fact, but he seemed to be genuinely shocked, which confused Harry even more.

 

“Overuse of this type of quill can cause permanent scarring.” Nagnok told him.

 

“I know that too.” Harry said as he held out his right hand, twisting it to the candlelight to show the pale white scars in his own handwriting. ‘I must not tell lies.’

 

Lucius actually seized his hand and checked the scars over, brushing over the five words with the pad of a smooth thumb.

 

“This…this is diabolical!” He hissed furiously. “That a student of Hogwarts would be treated this way, that a contract quill would be misused as a punishment for underaged wizards. A fifteen year old!”

 

“Oh I wasn’t the youngest, she had a whole class of first years writing lines, they were openly crying by the end and one little girl wanted nothing more than to just go home and never come back, her shirt was so blood stained that the house elves had to clean it twice to get rid of the stain.”

 

“What were they doing to deserve this treatment?” Lucius demanded.

 

“They were practising their spell casting during their break in the courtyard. She didn’t like us using magic.”

 

“She would never have done this to Draco, never. He wouldn’t have allowed it.”

 

“Like I said, he was part of her Inquisitorial Squad. She left the Purebloods alone, anyone who was a Slytherin was safe, it was everyone else who had to worry, even the first years.”

 

“Are they permanently scarred as well?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No, they never used the quill often enough. I was purposefully targeted because of the Ministry witch hunt against me last year and I was there nearly every night, she found reasons to give me punishment, even for things she just thought I’d done and had no proof of, just because I told her that Voldemort was back and had killed Cedric and that Fudge was a bumbling fool and the wizarding world would be better off if he stepped aside. I think she loves him.”

 

“I am so glad that you have brought this matter to my attention. I will have that woman in Azkaban before the month is out.” Lucius hissed.

 

“She told us that she could do it, she said she had permission from Fudge.”

 

“A bumbling idiot he may be, and an utter incompetent fool, but I very much doubt that he knew anything about this, he wouldn’t have allowed any magical child to be abused in such a way. Not when half of the governors’ children are currently attending Hogwarts and when half of the Wizengamot have young relatives in Hogwarts.”

 

“Where do I sign?” Harry asked as he looked at the pile of parchment.

 

Nagnok snapped his fingers again and a bowl of a very familiar liquid appeared. Essence of Murtlap. Harry steeled himself, he’d done this countless times before, once he had even done it for so long that he’d almost passed out from blood loss on his way back to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry scrawled his signature and ground his teeth together as the familiar, itchy sensation came back to him, his hand had opened with his own name and then it had healed almost instantly, but the back of his hand was a bright, cherry red already.

He signed his name everywhere that Nagnok pointed and it took just three signatures before his hand stopped closing over, blood quickly covering the back of his hand and slipping down his wrist.

Lucius wrapped a handkerchief around his wrist to keep it from staining the documents he was signing, the same one that he had offered when he had cut his finger for him.

Harry finished signing his name and his hand was on fire, but it was immediately submerged into the bowl of Murtlap tentacles and it was soothed instantly.

 

“You’re going to have trouble signing these sorts of contracts for the rest of your life; the quill has left permanent damage.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding.

 

“I sort of understood that. I knew she was doing permanent damage to me, she knew it too, but still she had me writing the same line over and over, sometimes she’d press her thumb to the cut to see how much it hurt me and if I didn’t try to pull away or gasp with pain, she’d have me coming back the following night to ‘get the message to sink in more.’ She wanted to do me permanent damage.”

 

“But you hadn’t done anything further to earn an additional detention?” Lucius clarified.

 

Harry shook his head. “I told you, half of the detentions I served with her didn’t have a real reason, she just kept adding them on and drawing them out by saying I hadn’t written enough lines to serve as a proper punishment and I’d have to come back again the following night and then I’d have more detentions because I was missing homework because I spent half the night with her and I was too drowsy and weak afterwards to stay awake to finish my homework.”

 

“How long were you doing this each night?”

 

“Straight after dinner until whenever she would release me, it went on until midnight once and I almost passed out from blood loss.”

 

“She made you write with a contract quill for seven straight hours?” Lucius demanded furiously.

 

Harry nodded. “Hermione was the smart one; she figured out what was happening and always had a bowl of Murtlap Essence waiting for whenever I got back to the common room.”

 

“If she were truly smart then she would have told an adult.”

 

“All of the Hogwarts staff already knew.” Harry shrugged. “They couldn’t do anything, not even Dumbledore, she had too much power at the school by then and she knew it.”

 

“I will sort this out, she won’t get away with this, my son was at that school and a Pureblood had been injured.”

 

Harry frowned at that as he tried to recall an injured Pureblood. Lucius sighed at him and looked at him as if he were completely hopeless.

 

“You have claimed two Lordships, you are by rights and by legitimisation a Pureblood and you were injured by that woman.”

 

Harry flushed a faint pink and ducked his head. “Are we done here?” He asked, wanting nothing more than to slip away and think about everything that had happened, least of all Lucius Malfoy actually helping him.

 

The same Lucius Malfoy who had cornered and threatened him and his friends’ just weeks ago, the same man who had escaped from the Department of Mysteries with a certain few others to escape the clutches of the Aurors and who was now sat next to him as if none of that had ever happened! It was too much, he was going to explode into a rage if he didn’t get out of here soon, it was too weird for him to handle at this moment.

 

“You just need your house rings, remember when they heat up, no matter what you’re doing, you have to make your way to the Ministry immediately.”

 

“How often can I expect to be called so I know what schedule I need to set up for school work and how will I get there? I’m still too young to Apparate by myself.”

 

“Your rings will act as a Portkey while you’re so young.” Lucius informed him. “It will give you fifteen minutes to get out of the school wards before activating, if you miss that then you’ll have an additional Portkey activation five minutes later, if you miss that then you have to make your own way to the Ministry, remember we cannot start until every member is there. As for how often, it differs, we usually meet every other month or so to catch each other up on events that might have been missed and to discuss things that may need monitoring or changing, but trials can happen at any moment, day or night.”

 

Harry nodded and Nagnok handed over two ancient, chunky rings. One was large, golden and engraved on the band was the Black family crest and motto. It was the other ring that made him catch his breath however, because he knew his Father and before him his Grandfather, had also worn this ring. It was smaller than the Black ring, but no less chunky, both bands were thick with gold, but the Potter ring had a small ruby inset in the band and on the face of the ruby, the Potter insignia was carved carefully, likely by hand.

 

“Which fingers do they go on?”

 

“It will take a while to get used to it, as they will both sit on the same finger, the Potter ring first and then the Black. They will both sit on the fourth finger of your right hand.”

 

“Left is for wedding and engagement rings.” Harry nodded as he slipped both rings onto his finger, surprised that they both fit him perfectly. He loved magic.

 

Lucius nodded and he stood, snapping his gloves back on and picking up his cane.

 

“Come along then, we still need to go to Flourish and Blotts.”

 

“I need to withdraw money.” Harry said as he took out his vault key, remembering the whole reason he had come to Gringotts in the first place.

 

Nagnok handed him over two new, small vault keys, a long rectangular booklet that looked like Uncle Vernon’s cheque book and two huge, thick dragonhide portfolios filled with smaller folders and a lot of parchment.

 

“Purebloods don’t carry around pockets full of coin.” Lucius informed him. “We have exchange books. You write the amount you owe onto the slip, your vault number and then sign your name, you won’t need to sign it with blood, it’s not a formal contract so normal ink will do, and then the shop owners can then come here to the bank and exchange these slips with Gringotts, who will take the gold from your specified vault and hand it over. After validating the signature first, of course.”

 

Harry nodded and smiled, slipping all three of his keys into the same pocket along with the little book and he carried the portfolio cases of parchment that he’d been told were the accounts for all of his vaults and that he had to review them and change what he didn’t like. One was for the Potter family; the second was for the Black family.

 

“How many books will I need?” Harry asked.

 

“A fair few.” Lucius said mockingly. “You need to act like a Pureblood, not like the little commoner you have been. Act more like Draco.”

 

Harry snorted. “So be a selfish, self-centred, boastful prick who taunts and bullies everyone, literally kicks the first and second years out of his way, has no real friends and likes bed hopping with Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass? Yeah, that’s seriously not happening.”

 

“You’re the Lord of two houses; try to remember that when speaking so crassly in a public area.” Lucius bit out through gritted teeth.

 

“I don’t know how to act like a Lord.” Harry hissed. “I didn’t even know about it until a few hours ago!”

 

“It was purposefully kept from you, I have no doubts certain…people, were involved too.”

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

“The Weasleys are blood traitors, but they’re still a Pureblooded family, do you really think that they didn’t know that you should be Lord Potter? Foolish they may be, yes, but even I can’t believe they’re that ignorant.”

 

“So Mister Weasley has a seat too?” Harry asked his mind was already running around too much information to take anything else in.

 

Lucius Malfoy let out a small, short, sarcastic laugh. “Of course not, they’re blood traitors, Potter. When they renounced their blood, they renounced the Lordship of their family too.”

 

“Why don’t you like the Weasleys?” Harry asked in a flash of courage. “It can’t just be that they’re blood traitors.”

 

Lucius gave him a look and sighed. “Catch up, Potter. I have no wish to shout my business up and down the street for all the shoppers on Diagon Alley to hear.”

 

Harry jogged a bit to catch up and stood by Lucius Malfoy’s side, matching him stride for stride as best as he could, the Malfoy Lord had seriously long, slender legs. In fact everything about him was long, slender and elegant.

 

“You doubtlessly know that all Pureblood families are interrelated.” Harry nodded, giving his full attention to Lucius Malfoy as he listened intently.

 

He’d always been so curious to know why the Malfoys hated the Weasleys and he hadn’t felt comfortable asking Mister Weasley and asking Ron only garnered him a furious tirade about ‘those evil Slytherin bastards’ which left Ron red faced and him still not understanding the situation.

 

“My great-great grandmother Amorette Malfoy married Lord Bilius Weasley, back when they were still a _respectable_ family, if you can imagine such a thing.”

 

“What happened?” Harry asked as he sensed how… _sad_ the man next to him seemed.

 

“He dragged her down and into the mud and he utterly humiliated and disgraced her. Malfoys…we’re not known for our fertility, Potter. Most of us struggle to get two children, why do you think Narcissa and I only have Draco?”

 

“I thought that maybe you only wanted the one. Believe me, Draco’s more than enough for any parent to handle.”

 

Lucius shook his head. “No, we are infamous for our lone child pregnancies, male or female, it doesn’t matter, we are…cursed almost, with low fertility, but Bilius Weasley wanted more children. More than the two Amorette could give him, the two smart, beautiful children that she almost died to give him. He blamed her for their lack of children, quite rightly, but it was not her fault, he knew that Malfoys struggle to conceive, everyone knew, but he was enamoured by her beauty and overlooked all of the important qualities. He had a secret affair with a Muggle woman, completely disgracing Amorette and the Malfoy family; he had four further children with the Muggle. Amorette was broken hearted and she died not long after she finally found out about her Husband’s affair nearly twelve years later, upon which Bilius Weasley finalised his complete and utter disgrace of her and the Malfoy family by marrying the Muggle whom had given him four additional children and bastardising the two children he’d had with Amorette. The Black family, out of respect for the Malfoy family, actually disowned a daughter when she married Septimus Weasley despite what his Grandfather had done to my own family.”

 

Harry scowled. “That’s terrible. I can understand wanting children, but if you love someone, you deal with it. You don’t just go out and have an affair just to have more children. That’s despicable!”

 

“I am pleased that you see things from my ancestors’ side. After that the Malfoy family swore a feud with the Weasley family until such a time that they disowned Bilius Weasley from their family for what he’d done to our family; they have thus far refused to do so, so the feud carries on to this day.”

 

Harry went silent, thinking fast and hard. He was only just realising that things weren’t always what he’d thought they were. He’d thought that the Malfoys were just snobby, stuck up pricks who bullied Mister Weasley merely for his lack of money and ambition; he’d had no idea of the story behind what had started their feud. He was ignorant and he was beginning to think that maybe Hermione had the right idea; books contained all sorts of information and as Mister Malfoy led the way into Flourish and Blotts, Harry promised himself that before he went back to Hogwarts, he would do his best to read every single book he bought here today, even if there were twenty of them.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 


	2. Changing Tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> Harry went silent, thinking fast and hard. He was only just realising that things weren’t always what he’d thought they were. He’d thought that the Malfoys were just snobby, stuck up pricks who bullied Mister Weasley merely for his lack of money and ambition; he’d had no idea of the story behind what had started their feud. He was ignorant and he was beginning to think that maybe Hermione had the right idea; books contained all sorts of information and as Mister Malfoy led the way into Flourish and Blotts, Harry promised himself that before he went back to Hogwarts, he would do his best to read every single book he bought here today, even if there were twenty of them.

Chapter Two – Changing Tides

 

It was a little worse than Harry had first thought. He’d been forced to buy over sixty books and a lot of them had more than five hundred pages! He’d spent most of his time in his bedroom at number four Privet Drive, just reading and trying to understand what the hell the authors were going on about as he encountered words that he had never seen before, so he had no clue as to their meaning and as such he had no hope of understanding what the books were trying to teach him.

The Dursleys left him alone for the most part as they had done all summer because of his guard, he had been interrogated by Hestia Jones though, an Order of the Phoenix member, when he’d come back late at night with a charmed bag bursting with books. He’d ignored her as best as he could, brushed off her questions and then he’d finally lost his patience when she wouldn’t let him enter the house and he’d shouted at her that he’d been gone all day and that it wasn’t his fault that she’d never noticed that he wasn’t in the house like he was supposed to be. He’d gotten a letter from Dumbledore the very next day expressing his ‘disappointment’ that Harry had broken his rules and had needlessly put himself at risk by wandering around on his own. Harry had torn the letter to shreds in his anger that had flared bright and cold, burning furiously inside him.

He spent his days in a virtual rage when he stopped to think about things too much and he’d kicked his trunk more than once…he always regretted it. So instead he had taken to annoying his Aunt, practising the cardinal Dursley sin of asking questions to try and figure out what in the hell these books were going on about. That had ended badly, Petunia had thrown a dictionary at him when he wasn’t looking and the thick spine, the part of the book to unfortunately hit him, had left a knot the size of an egg on the back of his head, but at least now he had a dictionary to help him, not that he understood much more of what the books were about even with the help of the dictionary.

He was back to being confined in his room though. He didn’t know what had changed or why the threat of the guards outside the house no longer worked, but he was back to being locked in his small, bland bedroom, but at least he had a mountain of books to read and a dictionary to give the illusion of helping him when in reality, it didn’t help him understand anything at all.

Locked away in a small room however, Harry had more time to think about everything that had happened and without the distraction of going down to the kitchen or out into the garden, he was stuck with his thoughts and the burning anger was making his head hurt. He couldn’t believe what he’d found out, he still couldn’t believe that Dumbledore hadn’t told him that he had a seat on the Wizengamot, two of them after Sirius had died, or that he was sat in them in his place! He’d had no clue about any of it; about Dumbledore being his magical guardian, the Lordships, the bank vaults he had, his claim to the Black vaults and Lordship…he hadn’t even known that his parents had legitimised him with Sirius’ blood! Why the hell had no one ever told him these things?!

Everything was always about the war, always about him and Voldemort, about that damn prophecy and how he had to kill the Dark Lord to save the wizarding world…it was like that was all he was to them, a shield and sword combo to be pushed in front of Voldemort, something to be used to keep everyone safe and to hell if he was injured or even killed in the attempt.

He scrubbed at his damp eyes with the back of his hand. He’d been pulled around by the hand like a clueless child, doing everything they wanted him to do and they hadn’t even had the decency to tell him about his own birth right. He swallowed hard and painfully past a bone dry throat, it was almost as if they were expecting him to die, so any information about what he could claim as an adult was irrelevant, because they didn’t expect him to live that long.  
His body froze as his mind played that over and over again, he felt bile at the back of his throat and he swallowed it back down. He didn’t want to die…all he wanted was to live his life in peace, maybe settle down with a partner, he knew he wanted kids, even if he had to adopt them and he wanted a nice house, with a big garden. He wanted to be _normal_! He didn’t want to be told of prophecies or be told that he had to kill someone, he didn’t want to be dragged into this war, he didn’t want to fight! Why should he? This wasn’t his war! He hadn’t chosen this, he’d been dragged into it and set up like a lamb to slaughter. They meant for him to die and they were slowly taking his control away from his birth right…his Lordships, his vaults, his property and stock holdings… _everything_ that his parents had wanted him to have, everything that they had planned and prepared meticulously, from his trust vault, to his legitimisation and his Lordship, it had all been slowly removed from him and he hadn’t even known about any of it!

This was all Dumbledore’s doing, he knew it. Lucius Malfoy might have been a filthy Death Eater, but he hadn’t once lied to him. How the hell did it get to the point where Dumbledore had taken everything that should have been his away from him and _Death Eaters_ were actually helping him? He couldn’t understand it and it made his head hurt all the more as he tried to figure out what on earth was happening.

How had it gotten to the point where he could trust Lucius Malfoy more than he could trust Dumbledore? He was confused and angry and he didn’t know what to do or even who to speak to! He’d even contemplated sending an owl to Lucius Malfoy asking him for his advice! He didn’t know where that moment of madness had come from, but he was so confused and he didn’t know where to turn, how had this even happened?

Things got even worse than that though as he had been summoned, via Ministry guard, to go to the Ministry of Magic and he had gone willingly enough as he had been let out of his room for the first time in days to sit at the table to eat his cousin’s half chewed toast crusts and Dudley had been entertaining the thoughts of starting up an old game of ‘Harry Hunting’ and Vernon was in a particularly bad mood that morning, so he had jumped at the chance to leave Privet Drive, even if it was for a couple of hours.

His Order guard had seen him leaving however, he could almost feel their eyes on him, and as he’d climbed into the back of an enchanted, green Ministry car, with all of his belongings as requested by his Ministry guards he might add, he’d seen the pale shimmering of an invisibility cloak as the person underneath it had spun on their heel and Disapparated, likely to tell Dumbledore immediately that Harry had been taken into Ministry custody.

He hadn’t stayed in Ministry custody though, as soon as he’d arrived at the Ministry in London, he’d been greeted, informed briefly of what was going on and then handed right on over to Lucius Malfoy who, he had been informed, had taken legal custody of him in the name of the Wizardry Protection Movement.

He’d tried to fight it, shouted that he didn’t want to live with Malfoy of all people, but no one had wanted to listen, as far as they were concerned, he had no rights as to where he even lived! He was underage and after what Lucius had fed them, they were all eating out of his hand and were eager to put Harry with Lucius, as a founding member of the Wizardry Protection Movement they claimed that he was the perfect person to take custody of him! He was told to calm himself down and go home with his new custodian as there was nothing else he could do, he was underage and nothing he said or did would change what had happened.

It was just three days after his trip to Diagon Alley and all of his things were now in a guest bedroom of Malfoy Manor, which was almost as big as the entire upper floor of the Dursley’s house and he was still reeling from what had happened, the papers were going ballistic with the story that Lucius had taken custody of the ‘neglected’ boy hero and had adopted him as his own son, but Lucius Malfoy refused to comment on anything or his reasoning behind taking custody of him except to tell the media that Harry had been neglected and Harry himself was kept well away from the public and the reporters.

He was Lord Potter and Lord Black, the papers had figured that much out when Lucius had taken Harry to the next called meeting to introduce him, but he still needed a guardian until he graduated and Lucius Malfoy was now that person after filing for his custody on the grounds of severe negligence by his previous magical guardian.

Harry didn’t know who was more shocked really, him or Draco, who Lucius had firmly told that he had to treat Harry like a brother now that they _were_ adopted brothers. Narcissa Malfoy had taken it in her stride, not that she could complain much with Harry now being her Head of House.

It was so strange, Harry had thought that, as stupid as it sounded in hindsight, that Voldemort would have been here waiting for him, but of course that couldn’t be true, Lucius was a top, loyal follower, of that he had no doubt, the very thought of being under the same roof as Lucius had seen him with many sleepless nights, but the man was also a high ranking Ministry official who was accused of being a Death Eater. Surely the Ministry would have tabs on him and his house and they’d know if Voldemort was here, though that still didn’t stop Lucius from being a Death Eater.

Harry didn’t like being here and he made sure that he never went _anywhere_ without his wand, he was even bathing with it and he was having trouble relaxing and sleeping, but everyone knew that he was here now, so he was at least reassured a little that Lucius couldn’t just do away with him, there would be questions asked and Lucius would be in the thick of it.

So no, Harry didn’t outright fear for his life being here and Lucius was actually taking lessons with him to help him understand what being a Lord was all about and what was expected of him and he was running through everything that he didn’t understand from the files Nagnok had given him and from the books that Lucius had made him buy, he was so busy that he didn’t have a damn chance to just sit back and think about what was happening, not thoroughly.

Of course a million and one owls all swooped in on him the morning after it had been made public, two days after he’d actually be brought to Malfoy Manor, that he’d been ‘adopted’ by Lucius Malfoy due to ‘unspecified negligence’ which really could have been anything or meant anything. He had several letters from the Weasleys, one incredibly long one from Hermione, a short, inquiring note from Dumbledore and a panicked letter from Remus who thought that he’d been kidnapped.

He sighed as they all bore near enough the same message, keep his eyes open, keep his wand on him at all times, don’t turn his back on them, don’t trust them, find out what he could from them, follow and report their every move and they’d do their best to get him out as quickly as possible.

 

“I take it from your expression that your letters bear news that you’d have rathered not read?” Lucius inquired as he sipped tea from a fine, bone china vintage teacup that had a matching delicate saucer. It was almost comical to Harry to watch the Malfoy’s eat and drink, especially after the two weeks he’d spent with the Dursleys watching Dudley and Vernon shovel in as much as they could with every mouthful.

 

Harry scoffed. “Something like that. It’s like they’ve all used the same template to write them, just in different words, they all contain the same points and ‘advice.’”

 

“Around the lines of not trusting us and spying on us no doubt. Dumbledore always was a transparent fool.” Lucius told him and Harry nodded absent mindedly as he rolled his eyes at Ron’s letter and his declaration of getting the twins to rescue him once more like they had when he was twelve.

 

Draco was sat opposite him at the small, six seated table. The Malfoys had a larger, much larger, table in their formal dining room, but the family dining room was smaller and more intimate and though it seated six, there were only four chairs. Lucius sat at the head of one side and Narcissa the other, Harry and Draco sat opposite each other on the sides of the table, it had made the first few days nearly impossible as Draco was a very spoilt, childish, petty person and kept kicking his shins, at least until Lucius had found out and had threatened to punish him for it if it carried on that is.

Draco was still reeling from the embarrassment and humiliation of his last punishment, one administered for promiscuous behaviour and a neglect of his studies, and he had no desire to earn another one. He hated Harry even more for telling his Father the rumours flying around Hogwarts and he made sure he knew about it too, he took every opportunity he could to ensure that Harry knew he wasn’t wanted or welcome in his home, which he’d never had to share with anyone in his life, he wasn’t big on sharing, just like Dudley.

It was sad really, he’d been taken from one unwanted home to be put in another, it truly was like he was unlovable, but as he was staying with the Malfoy’s of all people, he tried not to let that bother him.

A week after he had arrived at Malfoy Manor and had everything turned on its head, Lucius had a day off from work and had woken him up at six in the morning, or rather he’d gotten a house elf to come and wake him up at six in the morning and lead him to a room in the maze like manor that he still wasn’t used to.

Harry had been forced to sit through an hour long etiquette lesson before breakfast and then after breakfast, which was perfectly balanced he might add, a tailor and two assistants had come to measure him for robes. That had taken three hours as they’d made him two sets of robes on the spot, complete with shirts and trousers, to wear while his new wardrobe was being created especially for him from a range of colours that suited his skin tone, hair and eye colour and the seasons. Lucius had gotten a house elf to incinerate all of his old robes and clothes while he was being fitted.

Lunch was even more tense than breakfast had been as Harry was furious at being picked apart, pulled about, dressed like a toddler and then he’d found out that all of his own clothing had been burnt without his permission.

 

‘You are a part of the Malfoy household, your actions reflect upon me and your appearance reflects upon me. While you are in my home, you will dress and behave as I tell you to.’ Lucius had told him calmly after Harry had thrown a bitch fit and let out all of his pent up rage and frustration, which had only been growing the longer he remained here.

 

Sullen and still silently fuming, Harry went back to reading his new boring book in a chair in front of Lucius’ desk in his study. He was doing work for whatever it was he did whilst supervising Harry’s lesson so that he could be on hand if Harry didn’t understand something, which was often enough that Lucius had once remarked that perhaps he should read the book to him like a child.

 

“Are you going to start reading or would you rather continue staring blankly at the page?” Lucius asked without looking up at him.

 

Harry sighed and forced himself to go back to the book. He didn’t know what was happening, everything was turned on its head and it was all going far too fast for him to take in, he needed everything to just slow down a little, so that he could breathe and work through it all. He didn’t know what to think, who to trust or what to believe. He’d even made a list in his bed suite at night, because such a large room, with its own attached en suite bathroom and a sitting area with its own fire, could not be called just a simple bedroom, so he’d taken to calling it his bed suite. This list had on it just a few names of people he knew that he could explicitly trust, bulletin points of everything he’d learnt so far and another bulletin list of all the books he’d read since that summer, just so that he could keep track of everything.

 

“I have made a list of all eligible young women for you to peruse if you’re not going to read that book.” Lucius told him several minutes later after Harry had spaced out yet again.

 

“What for?” Harry demanded angrily.

 

“For your betrothal, Harry.” Lucius said patiently.

 

“I am not getting married to anyone and you can’t make me!” He exploded.

 

Lucius Malfoy sighed heavily. “A betrothal is a simple contract that is easily broken if you wish it to be, but it’s traditional for an Heir, or an underaged Lord, to be betrothed, it’s more for protection as you cannot be betrothed twice, it is better to have a hand-picked betrothal than one not of your making. Draco is betrothed, and has been since he was six years old, to Astoria Greengrass, which is why his ‘bed hopping’ as you phrased it, with Miss Parkinson and Astoria’s older sister, Daphne, is deeply disgraceful and is the reason why I put a stop to such behaviours. I don’t expect my son to remain virginal until his wedding night, but I had thought that he’d have more respect for the daughters of other Pureblood lines, who traditionally _are_ expected to remain virginal, as unfair as that might seem to you.”

 

“So there’s no…obligation for me to marry this person?” Harry asked as he took the list of just a handful of names.

 

“None.” Lucius told him smoothly. “This information will be in one of the books that you were given.”

 

“I haven’t gotten around to reading them all yet.” He said with an averted gaze.

 

“Hardly surprising if you just stare mindlessly at the page and don’t actually read them.” Lucius said as he let his gaze linger on the forgotten book on his lap. “I understand that some of them are quite tedious, but it is all information that you now need to know, so I suggest that you apply yourself more than you have and retain the information you are taking in.”

 

“I don’t know any of these names.” Harry said with a frown as he read down the list.

 

“You don’t have to know their names, they are in order of suitability for a Lord of your status, to have two Lordships is a very attractive quality, even if your manners, etiquette, intelligence and personality are lacking.”

 

Harry grit his teeth together, he’d lashed out once, only verbally, but as his guardian, Lucius now had the power and the right to punish him, like he’d done with Draco. Harry would not soon forget that punishment and he had no wish to ever repeat the utterly humiliating experience.

 

“Hmm, so you can learn. Good.”

 

Harry sat sullenly in the chair, glaring at the parchment that had only five names on it. He couldn’t pronounce two of them.

 

“There is a lack of Pureblooded witches in Britain.” Lucius told him as if reading his mind. “Those that are even close to your age group were betrothed years ago. I didn’t think you would like a babe as your betrothed, nor a witch of advanced age, though I suspect Draco would thoroughly enjoy it.”

 

Harry remained silent as he nibbled on his lip. Lucius sighed again. He was doing that a lot around him and Harry wondered if he really was that much of a burden or if the man was prone to sighing over everything.

 

“What is the youngest and oldest age that you would consider?”

 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t like the thought of anyone younger than me, but people, well they annoy me.”

 

“Annoy you how?” Lucius queried.

 

Harry shrugged again; immediately a pain in his shoulder, like being hit with a wooden ruler, had him startling in surprise and rubbing his shoulder as he glared at Lucius, who had his wand out.

 

“I have warned you several times to stop shrugging like an ineloquent Muggle.” Lucius hissed at him. “Tell me, with your words, what you find annoying about other people.”

 

“I don’t know, most people my own age annoy me, little things like the way they act, the things they say, what they expect me to do or how to behave, it all seems so…pointless, so childish.”

 

“Things like what?”

 

“Like pranks, or stupid games, calling other people names because of stupid reasons. I’ve never liked it. Everyone expects me to be this huge prankster like my Dad was, but I have no interest in doing something so ridiculous as using other people for amusement. Or when Ron calls Draco a ferret because of what the fake Moody did to him in our fourth year or the Slytherins calling Hermione a beaver because of her teeth when it’s something she couldn’t control, it’s all so pointless, what’s the point behind it? It doesn’t give either party anything so why bother doing it? It’s stupid.”

 

“Well well, it seems I misjudged you, you are a little bit more mature than I first thought. So you would actually prefer someone older than yourself?”

 

“I suppose.” Harry said unhappily.

 

“Shall we say forty then?” Lucius asked patiently.

 

Harry nodded, the feeling of a ruler smacking into the back of his head had him gritting his teeth. “I mean, yes.”

 

“Good. There are still no Pureblooded witches of that age group in Britain, but it opens up quite a bit for more European Pureblooded witches.”

 

Harry scowled and looked down at his lap. Lucius sighed once again.

 

“What is the problem now?” He asked less patiently.

 

“I’m…I’m not sure that I like women as a whole.”

 

Lucius reared back as if he’d been slapped. Harry blushed and hunched himself over.

 

“I mean…I’m not really interested in anyone, but girls seem to be more annoying to me, so I thought that maybe boys would be better, but I’m really not sure what I am or what I like, I’ve never…I’ve never actually been with anyone in that way, so I don’t know.”

 

“There is no need for such a tirade, I am merely surprised. I didn’t take you for the open minded type, perhaps I should have. I will have you tested to see if you are able to carry children, I was going to do so regardless, but with this development I will do so a little more urgently and I will write up a new list of appropriate candidates that are suitable for you. There happen to be more Pureblooded wizards than witches, so there are quite a few left over in Britain without a current betrothal match.”

 

“What do you mean ‘to see if I can carry children’?” Harry asked dumbfounded.

 

Lucius sighed heavily. “Your ignorance truly knows no bounds. I will find that book for you as well, but certain wizards are able to carry children, others are not. Draco was tested before his betrothal and was found not to carry the gene that enables wizards to carry children, I will have you tested in due course, but thirty percent of all wizards are actually able to carry children, most never find out, as they are heterosexual and never let another man penetrate them in such a way and are never tested, but if you feel that you are more naturally drawn to males, then it might be because you need to be matched with one.”

 

“So…so I would be betrothed to another man and that would be okay?” Harry asked uncertainly.

 

“Perfectly okay.” Lucius clarified. “Now, run along, read your books. I want you to report to me tomorrow that you have made headway on the stack that you still have left. I will have the potion you need to take ready for tomorrow afternoon.”

 

Harry nodded and he stood, taking the book he was currently struggling and bumbling through with him. He ran into Draco on his way to his bed suite.

 

“Having fun, Potter?” He spat.

 

“Save it, Draco, I have absolutely nothing to say to you.” Harry replied to the taller boy.

 

“You will stop referring to me so personally!” Draco hissed.

 

“I’ve been told to call you Draco, so I will. I have absolutely no wish to be punished again and I would have thought that you wouldn’t want that again either, unless you actually like being turned over your Father’s knee and spanked like a toddler.”

 

Draco went pink and shut his mouth. Being spanked by Lucius Malfoy _hurt_ and badly. He and Draco had both been uncomfortable with the whole situation and then the next day they had had to suffer through the humiliation of not being able to sit down properly and as squirming would get them a hex from one or both of the elder Malfoys, they’d had to endure the pain while sitting completely still on an unpadded, wooden chair. Neither of them wanted to repeat the experience.

 

“I don’t like you being here.” Draco told him churlishly.

 

“I actually like being here.” Harry said with a smile. “It’s so surprising and I never would have thought that I’d enjoy being here, but I’m learning a lot and it won’t be for long at any rate, we’ll be back in Hogwarts soon enough. Then it’ll just be one more summer, then I’ll be free of all guardians when I graduate and being the Lord of the Potter and Black houses, I’ll be free to do as I please.”

 

“Not entirely, you’re still expected to act like a Lord.” Draco told him. “You are linked to the Malfoy name now; I won’t let you disgrace us!”

 

“Believe it or not I have no intention of disgracing the Malfoy name; I have a lot to be thankful to your Father for, including setting up my betrothal for me so that I can’t be taken advantage of by anyone else and giving me a respectable match in the process.”

 

That took the wind out of Draco’s sails. “Who is it?”

 

Harry just winked and left for his bed suite.

 

“Don’t you walk away from me in my own home! Tell me who you’re betrothed to!”

 

“It’s none of your business! Though I was surprised to hear that your betrothal was to Astoria Greengrass, especially as you were… _practising_ with her older sister.”

 

“That has nothing to do with you! How did you even know about Daphne?”

 

“Oh please, everyone knows about that, Draco and about Pansy’s pregnancy scare.”

 

Draco went pale at the remembered fury of his Father finding out that little bit of information. He sighed.

 

“That was my own fault.” He allowed. “I wasn’t careful enough.”

 

“I got the impression that you weren’t supposed to be doing that with them, careful or not.”

 

Draco sneered. “How is it my fault if they slid into bed with me? They’re the ones who should be retaining their purity; it’s not for me to do it for them.”

 

Harry conceded to that, the girls should have had more restraint, but still it took two people to agree to sex, Draco could have refused them.

 

“Why should I have?” He asked when Harry pointed that out. “If they’re offering me something that I want, I’m going to take it.” He said simply.

 

Harry sighed. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to accept such a selfish point of view, he hadn’t been raised that way, being kicked and beat upon by his own family members, being forced into near servitude to them…he didn’t have it in him to be a selfish person, at least not to the extent of Draco and the other Purebloods.

He made it to his bed suite and Draco had let him go this time. He had a lot to think about and a lot to read through still, not to mention trying to get the hang of Ancient Runes, which had piqued his interest when he’d seen them at Gringotts, and the very difficult Arithmancy and now he had the added worry of a betrothal set up for him by Lucius Malfoy to an older Pureblooded wizard. There couldn’t be many of them left around either if all the females were snatched up, he was contented and soothed a little with the knowledge that he didn’t have to marry them and that he could break the betrothal once he was a graduated adult.

He sat in his own personal sitting room and settled down with his book, he’d meant what he’d said to Draco, he had absolutely no desire to be spanked like a naughty little boy again and he took Lucius’ threat seriously, so he sat and he read the tedious books that he’d been forced to buy at the goblin, Nagnok’s, and Lucius’ insistence. It was going to be a long, boring night, of that he was sure.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry had settled in relatively well with the Malfoy family he thought, even as his back was smacked again with a hex that made him feel like he was being hit with a thin piece of wood.

This time it was Narcissa Malfoy doing the hexing and he had been assured that the hex was a common one used by all Pureblooded parents to dissuade their children from ill-mannered habits, as he’d been told by all three of the Malfoys. Draco had even told him some of his more prominent memories of being taught with the hex.

 

“Keep your back straight, your natural posture is curved, because your spine is S shaped.” He was lectured as his shoulders were pulled back and an elegant hand pushed at the lower curve of his back, pushing his hips forward. “You’ve lived with bad posture for all of your life, it will take some time to get used to, but you will get used to it with some precise instruction. You have the wardrobe, now you just need the posture to pull it off, you are meeting your betrothed in a week, you need to be walking the walk and talking the talk by then or you’ll be rejected, so learn quickly because being rejected is a huge humiliation for you and for the Malfoy family.”

 

Harry nodded and he held his shoulders back and loose, as he’d been taught. He took precise, elegant strides up and around the huge rectangular ball room, Narcissa following him, her wand out and poised to hit him with another smack if he put a foot wrong or tightened up his shoulders or let them slump. It was hard work keeping the posture and it pulled at his abdominal muscles and his back muscles, what Lucius had told him were his ‘core’ muscles. Apparently he needed to firm them up and get them stretched and strong, because all Purebloods had strong core muscles due to their posture. It hurt.

He was smacked on the hip with the hex and he yelped, only to get a smack to the back of the head for such an undignified sound.

 

“You cocked your hip out.” Narcissa told him. “I don’t need to explain what the second hex was for, do I?”

 

“No, Lady Malfoy.” He replied softly and respectfully. He liked Narcissa the most, she did not carry a Dark Mark and she had never personally done anything to him, so he was content to behave himself more with her around and the level of care that she took with him actually made his heart hurt…she made him feel, for the first time in his life, that he was missing a Mother in his life.

 

“Good, you are one of the rare wizards who are capable of childbirth, so you need to be elegant and poised, gentle yet strong and determined.”

 

Harry took a breath and adjusted his shoulders and his hips, keeping his chin at a right angle to his neck, he wasn’t allowed to look at the floor, he wasn’t allowed to look where his feet were stepping and he wasn’t used to it.

It had come as a huge shock to him when the potion he’d taken had come back positive for the gene that allowed him to carry a child in his own body. He had thrown a fit, been punished and then he’d denied it twice, refusing to believe the test and claiming that it had been rigged just to mess with his head.

Lucius had had enough of his ‘needless denials’ and on his next day off from work he’d dragged him to Saint Mungos hospital and had them administer the test. It was irrefutable now and the hospital had given him two leaflets and a list of books for him to read. He had been forced to accept that the test was true and he was slowly coming to terms with it and the books were really, very helpful and informative, even if he could have done without the moving pictures of the surgery he’d need to undergo to deliver the baby.

Lucius had actually smiled at the hospital results; apparently there hadn’t been a Pureblooded male who had tested positive for the genes in a long while, so Lucius had said that he was going to be well sought after for a full marriage because he had tested positive for this gene and not just a mere betrothal, when he was actually of marrying age that was, which was any age over fourteen with parental consent or seventeen without parental consent.

It was also a point of pride for the Malfoy family to have a male able to bear children in their family, even though Harry hadn’t actually been born to the Malfoys, he was constantly being told, and he was slowly coming to understand, that he was a part of their family now regardless, that his actions reflected on them and that their actions reflected on him, his humiliation was their humiliation and his achievements were their achievements because he’d been fully adopted into the Malfoy family. He had even appeared on their family tapestry!

Lucius was still protecting him from everything and everyone, including the media and reporters and he refused any and all attempts to see or talk to ‘his son’ as he’d reportedly said. Harry was still getting near enough daily owls, but Lucius was a strict man and he had restricted the use of owls for both him and Draco, apparently it was uncouth to send out a mass of owls.

So, due to this restriction, the only person that Harry responded to regularly was Remus, because the man seemed genuinely distressed and upset for him, he wasn’t concerned about the Malfoys or what they were doing, but about him as a person, so Harry responded that he was fine, that he was really well and he was happy that he now had a family and that he was being taught the things that he needed to know. He kept his messages brief, to the point and elegant. Lucius reviewed all his letters and approved them, as he did the same for Draco, and he had even refused to let Harry send out letters in the beginning ‘because his handwriting was abysmal and he couldn’t have such hideous cursive attributed to a member of his family.’ Harry’s hand still hurt with remembered pain from the amount of hexes it had taken as Lucius had painstakingly instructed him on how to actually write with a quill. His knuckles had been bruised and sore for days.

He’d attended a second Wizengamot meeting just after his sixteenth birthday and he understood a little more than he had the first time around, which proved that he was learning from the numerous amounts of books he was reading, but he mostly stayed quiet and sat as close to Lucius as he could while in public, listening and learning. When he was asked for his opinion or his vote, he took a deep breath and actually thought about what was being asked, having taken in the arguments and opinions of the other Wizengamot members at the semi-circular table, and thought about his answer before he gave it. He believed that he impressed at least some of them with his opinions and insight into some matters, or maybe it was merely because he wasn’t bumbling around like a fool or just merely copying Lucius, because he was young, he knew that and as most of the other Lords were forty years or older, it really made him stand out as a teenage boy to them, yet on the same hand, he wasn’t the youngest person to ever claim his Lordship early, one boy had been just thirteen when he had joined the Wizengamot, so Harry was a little uncertain about everything, he was a lot less vocal than all of the other Lords, but he was happy to know that he wasn’t the youngest person to ever be on the Wizengamot and though he hadn’t been raised knowing about his Lordship or what it would entail, he was learning quickly and with Lucius’ help, he thought he was holding his own against the older, more informed Lords quite well, though he knew that they didn't exactly take him seriously, not yet, but they listened…not only was he Lord Potter and Lord Black, which was abbreviated to just Lord Potter-Black for conveniences sake, he was also Harry Potter and because of that fact, he at least got people to listen to him instead of just laughing and cutting him off, which he was thankful for as he’d been shitting himself when Lucius had warned him that the other Wizengamot members might do just that.

He’d met a lot of people that he hadn’t known existed, particularly Lord Xerxes Lestrange, who had taken a great interest in him too. The man was huge and he was at least the size of two people in height and broadness, his hand was firm and rough when he stuck his hand out to shake, only he didn’t shake Harry’s offered hand, he took Harry’s hand like he was a girl and he kissed the back of it with dry lips with a firm pressure that lasted for only a moment.

Harry bit his tongue and smiled softly, even if it was a little forced, remembering Narcissa’s lessons. He was to be strong and gentle, graceful and eloquent; he would be a Consort because of his child bearing abilities, he would be the ‘Lady’ of the house…he’d been repeatedly hit with the smacking hex for the bitch fit that had followed that piece of information. He’d gone over Lucius’ knee again once Narcissa had told him of his disgusting and despicable language and behaviour upon finding out his apparently ‘superior’ status once the man had come home from work.

 

“I look forward to seeing more of you very soon, Lord Potter-Black.”

 

Harry turned to Lucius questioningly when they’d been let out of the Wizengamot meeting.

 

“Please tell me that you never betrothed me to him, he is not forty or under. I’ll eat both of my feet, socks and shoes included, if he’s under seventy.”

 

Lucius smiled at him. “He is seventy-four and he would make you a good match, he is strong, reliable and he is enamoured of you. The Lestranges have good, strong genes.”

 

Harry blanched, feeling a little faint and Lucius chuckled darkly. “You are betrothed to his younger grandson, Rabastan Lestrange, who is thirty-six. Though he will be thirty-seven later this year, we were friends in school and of course we remained friends later in life. They accepted my offered contract of you just yesterday.”

 

“The one in Azkaban?” Harry asked with a frown.

 

“The one who escaped from Azkaban.” Lucius corrected quietly.

 

“How can I be betrothed to an escaped felon?” Harry demanded.

 

“Not in public, my son.” Lucius hissed at him.

 

Harry clenched his mouth shut and shifted his expression to neutral, he corrected his posture and made sure to call upon all of his lessons to avoid going back over Lucius’ knee when they got home. If he impressed the man he might get a lesser punishment, like a restriction on his sweet treats or how many letters he could send, though he was already quite restricted on both of those to begin with, but he had no wish to be restricted on them even more than he already was, but it was much better than being spanked like a little boy and then made to stand in the corner while the pads on all his chairs were taken away.

 

“You’re doing wonderfully well.” Lucius praised quietly when they reached the Atrium. “Keep it up and you may pass for Lord Potter-Black after all.”

 

Harry tried inexplicably hard and he forced the smile to stay mental and not show it on his face as he appeared disinterested and aloof as he tried as hard as he could to keep pace with Lucius, just slightly behind him as Lucius’ legs were really long, unlike his own short, stunted ones. He didn’t look left or right and he kept his chin up. He was doing well he thought, especially as he’d only been with the Malfoy family for a little under a month. He remained calm and he didn’t dodge anyone, he made them move out of his way, like Lucius did. At least until Dumbledore hurried across to them from the opposite side of the absolutely huge Ministry Atrium, there were a few people following him.

 

“Harry, my boy!” He called out to stop their progression.

 

Lucius immediately stepped in front of Harry neatly, and placed a hand on his shoulder to ensure that he knew where he was standing at all times.

 

“Dumbledore.” He greeted silkily. “I don’t believe I gave you leave to speak to my underaged son.”

 

“Now Lucius, we both know that he isn’t your son.”

 

Lucius chuckled mockingly. “I think that you will find that he is legally mine and there is nothing that you can do about that. You do not have my permission to approach my son in such a way.”

 

“I am his Headmaster.”

 

“Yet it is not school term time. All inquiries you have about my son’s education will be directed to me, if I feel that Harry isn’t performing to the best of his abilities, then I will act accordingly.”

 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Dumbledore asked around Lucius’s side.

 

Harry averted his eye contact, not lowering his chin below ninety degrees, but turning his head in the opposite direction. He didn’t answer. Lucius was his legal Father and had expressly said that Dumbledore did not have permission to talk to him; Harry wouldn’t undermine that by talking to Dumbledore, not after everything that Lucius had done for him over the last month, taking him in, teaching him, caring for him in his own way, punishing him when it was called for, setting up everything for him and actually taking the time to tell him everything that he needed to know, no, he wouldn’t go against Lucius, not now. He had nothing to say to Dumbledore anyway. At least nothing that that wouldn’t have him shouting at him in anger in an undignified display that would get him punished when Lucius got him back home.

 

“I assure you that he is better than ever. He is being taught properly and re-educated. Which reminds me, I have taken this time to change Harry’s electives for his sixth year, as is my right as his Father, I am home schooling him myself in the missing subjects to get him caught up before the new school year starts. That is the extent of the conversation regarding my son’s education. Come along, Harry, we have lots to be getting on with.”

 

Harry immediately took a step forward, a nice, even, precise step and he fell in beside Lucius, at least until his arm was grabbed when he was in mid step, which jerked him backwards and he let out a sharp exhale of air, which was the only reaction he gave to being so surprised. He hadn’t expected to be grabbed in such a way.

Lucius spun around on his heel, his wand out and aimed at one of the men who had followed Dumbledore, the one who had grabbed, and still had a hold, of Harry’s arm.

 

“I would suggest that you unhand my son this instant.” He hissed angrily.

 

“He isn’t your son, Malfoy! You’ve cursed him or something.”

 

“I would have expected this sort of blatant disrespect from a muggleborn, but from a Halfblood? Well, well.”

 

Harry turned to see Lord Lestrange striding confidently across the Atrium towards them.

 

“I suggest that you unhand the young Lord. He is a son of the Malfoy family, not one of them I’d want to cross either.”

 

Harry felt a hand shoot out when Lord Lestrange came level with them and it twisted the elbow of the man holding him and Harry was released as the man went to the floor, howling. Harry made his way quickly to Lucius’ side, escorted by the formidable, intimidating Xerxes Lestrange.

 

“I will see you pay for this disrespect, how dare you grab my underaged son from my side! You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

 

“Why don’t we ask Harry what he wants?” Dumbledore said, even as he ignored the man on the floor holding his elbow.

 

“Fine, just this once I will allow it, but you have no business seeing or speaking to my son.” Lucius relented.

 

Harry assumed that it was because there was a gathering of people watching them, they’d caused a scene.

 

“I wish to return to my home with my Father.” Harry said clearly and concisely, speaking with care and with eloquence. It had taken several elocution lessons from Narcissa to get him speaking properly. He enjoyed the look on Dumbledore’s face when he heard him speak, for as much as how he was speaking as the words he had said.

 

“You have him under the Imperius Curse!” One of the men shouted out loudly to the crowd.

 

“That is a very serious allegation.” Harry said. “To accuse me of being under such a dark, debilitating curse, though I assure you no such thing has occurred.”

 

“I believe that the Lord Potter-Black is just finally coming into himself.” Lord Xerxes Lestrange said simply. “It is always eye opening to be taught the things one needs to know, things he really should have been taught in his childhood yet, for some unknown reason, wasn’t. He was a disgrace to all Purebloods, I am glad that someone has finally taken him in and has set to teaching him what he needs to know. Someone needed to.”

 

Harry had to clench his teeth together to stave off the smile at the look on Dumbledore’s face. Those blue eyes dropped to his right hand, where the two Lordship rings were sitting perfectly, looking chunky on his small finger, but no less regal and important. He had obviously missed the newspaper article about him claiming his Lordships; Harry was glad that he’d gotten to see this first reaction in person.

Harry saw immediately when the penny dropped and Dumbledore realised why he hadn’t been called to any recent Wizengamot meetings…because he wasn’t on the Wizengamot anymore.

 

“I would have hoped that you would have come to see me before making such a drastic decision on your own, Harry.” He said in a quiet, disappointed voice. “This will seriously disrupt your schooling; it is a huge responsibility to hold on your own.”

 

“He wasn’t alone when he made the decision, I was with him.” Lucius said smugly. “I told him of the disruption and what would be required of him and he has agreed that though it will be difficult, he will reschedule his school work to fit in his duties as the Lordships he has claimed demands. I have been helping him in the last two meetings, so he isn’t technically holding them on his own either and despite what I would have previously thought, he’s learning quickly.”

 

Harry lifted his chin a fraction at the praise and he wanted to grin, but he didn’t. Praise from Lucius Malfoy, even in the roundabout, insulting way that it was delivered, was high indeed.

 

“I think that this… _conversation_ is concluded.” Lucius said as he put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and steered him away. “Say goodbye to your headmaster, Harry.”

 

“Goodbye, headmaster.” Harry said dutifully as he turned with Lucius and left. Xerxes Lestrange walked behind them.

 

“Such an annoying, meddlesome man.” Xerxes commented to Lucius.

 

“Indeed.” Lucius answered. “It won’t be long now before he is dealt with. I’m more annoyed with that Halfblood actually laying his hands on one of my sons, disgraceful.”

 

“On my future Grandson and the soon to be carrier of my great-grandchildren.” Xerxes said. “I would not have stood idly by and let such a thing happen, even if you did have everything under control.” He said respectfully.

 

Harry sighed silently, everyone knew before him it seemed that his betrothal was to Rabastan Lestrange, he didn’t understand the whole, carrier of the Great-grandchildren though, because he had no obligation to marry Rabastan when the contract ended, he’d seen that for himself in the contract that he’d signed.

 

“If he likes Rabastan, that is.” Lucius put in silkily and Harry relaxed a little as he was reassured that his information was correct.

 

“I have every faith that he will like my Rabastan. He’s a prominent Pureblood, he’s wealthy in his own right, he’s intelligent, he’s a handsome devil and he’s fertile. I had him and Rodolphus checked when Bellatrix didn’t fall pregnant after two years of marriage, there’s no problem with either of them, but Bellatrix refuses to get checked.”

 

“I could help you with that.” Harry said smoothly. “I’m her Head of House; I could…insist that she gets her fertility checked if you have concerns about it as her marital Head of House.”

 

Xerxes chuckled and he touched Harry’s shoulder gently. “I would appreciate that, Lord Potter-Black.”

 

Harry nodded and he held Lucius’ arm as they reached the Apparation area.

 

“I will see you soon, Xerxes.” Lucius said and the two of them shared a knowing look. Harry took that to mean that there would be a Death Eater meeting soon. Nearly every letter he got now asked about Death Eater meetings and encouraged him to ‘pass on’ all of Lucius’ comings and goings or anything he’d heard the Malfoys say, even if it was out of context. Harry wasn’t going to do it, he was learning so much from Lucius, he didn’t want that to end and for all intents and purposes, Lucius was his legal Father, he was family and he wouldn’t sell out family.

 

Harry took a half step closer to Lucius and clenched his hand on his arm tighter and then he found himself suddenly back in the foyer of Malfoy Manor. He took a half step forward on the landing, but he was getting much better at it than when he had used to face plant the floor on his landings. Lucius had helped him with that too.

 

“You’re getting much better at that now.” Lucius told him, helping to steady him a little. “Your lessons are paying off.”

 

Harry nodded. “All of them, I believe. I understood more of what was said in the meeting this time around.”

 

“Yes, I was very proud of you during that meeting. How you conducted yourself, how you thought about what you wanted to say before opening your mouth and especially how much sense you actually made while speaking. I was immensely proud.”

 

Harry smiled widely, almost beaming at the praise he’d received and he excused himself and rushed away, he wanted to delve deeper into his books so that the next meeting that was called, he could do even better.

 

“You stop running in your home this instant!” Lucius called after him sharply, not raising his voice, but making it carry to him, where he immediately stopped and looked back at Lucius with a sheepish smile.

 

“Sorry.” He said a bit bashfully.

 

“You had better need the bathroom really badly.” Lucius told him as he climbed the stairs to join him on the landing above.

 

“I wanted to get to my room so that I could read more, so that the next meeting goes even better.” Harry said excitedly. “There were some things that I didn’t understand still, so I wanted to check up on those and I wanted to finish the one book that I’m reading so that I could get onto the next one.”

 

“You’re prattling.” Lucius told him and Harry shut his mouth and ducked his head to the floor. That got him a hex to the back of the head and he lifted it up again automatically. “I never said that it was a bad thing, only something which you need to…limit.” Lucius said as they carried on down the hallway. “I am pleased that you’re so excited about your duties. Let us hope that you show as much enthusiasm towards your betrothed in a few days.”

 

Harry bit his lip and nibbled at it.

 

“What if he doesn’t like me? Just because I like older men doesn’t mean he’ll want a recently turned sixteen year old for a match.”

 

“If his Grandfather has any say in the matter, Rabastan would be proposing and whisking you off for a bonding ceremony before you went back to Hogwarts.” Lucius remarked dryly.

 

“Doesn’t he need your permission for that, and mine?”

 

“Exactly right. Something I will not be giving, my sons will finish their formal education before they decide to start a whirlwind romance and fly off to get married.”

 

Harry chuckled. “I never thought of getting married so young, I quite like the idea, just not yet. I’m still new to everything, so I want to learn as much as I can first.”

 

“Then go and do that reading you were so eager to do just a few minutes ago. I will see you later this evening to see how much information you have actually retained.”

 

Harry nodded and he said his goodbyes and he once again veered off for his bed suite, at a much steadier, calmer pace than before. He didn’t know what to think about having a convicted, escaped felon as a betrothal match, but it was Lucius’ decision, not his, and while he was under this contract, he had to have so many meetings with his betrothed and so much correspondence with him to fulfil the terms of the contract he’d signed, but there was still no obligation for him to marry Rabastan at the end of it, which he was thankful for.

He was a bit nervous about meeting him in a few days and he hoped that everything went well, because he knew that Rabastan had been incarcerated in Azkaban for a very long time…fifteen years if he remembered right, Sirius had been bad after twelve years and he’d had his Animagus form to help him, he didn’t want to think of the mental state Rabastan was in and if he was anything like his sister-in-law Bellatrix, then there was absolutely no way in this lifetime that he’d even consider an engagement at the end of their betrothal contract, let alone a marriage.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Xerxes Lestrange smiled at the document in his hands. Irrefutable proof that Harry James Potter was fertile and able to carry a child within his body. Lucius had willing produced the document when he had, rightly so, demanded proof of the nearly unbelievable claims that Lucius had made that the son he’d adopted had the gene that allowed him to carry a baby when he’d made the initial contract request for his Rabastan.

He laughed to himself, he should have suspected something like this…that boy was far too small and slim to be anything other than a gene carrier, but he had reasoned that the boy was still growing.

It was his soft face and that delicate, fragile looking body combined with this document, which was signed by two different Healers from Saint Mungos, that made the connection click. It had been so long since there had been a confirmed gene carrier who actually _wanted_ to exercise their rare ability and have a child grown in their bodies that it was just a natural reaction now to disbelieve someone who claimed that they carried the gene.

The problem now was his stubborn, idiot son and his overprotective older Grandson, both of whom opposed the match. His son was easily cowed, having abandoned his own sons to go and live in India for a decade and a half, leaving him to raise his two Grandsons, one of whom had been just an infant, so Xerxes readily pointed out that they were more his sons and that Rhadamanthus had no right to claim them as his own.

Rodolphus however was harder to convince, he felt that Rabastan wasn’t ready for the complicated bonding process of a betrothal contract and that the meetings would be a disaster because it was too soon. Xerxes was ready to agree with his older Grandson when he thought back to the way that Rabastan had to take the lead from Rodolphus before he could do anything, but Lucius was looking for an immediate betrothal for his newly adopted son before anyone tried to do so on the boy’s behalf, Dumbledore for example. Lucius and Harry couldn’t afford to wait and neither could he. He needed Rabastan married and he needed him to have Heirs and soon and as an escapee of Azkaban, it was going to be very difficult for him to even question another Pureblood family about a possible marriage between them and his Grandson…this way, with Lucius’ contract, he could have the marriage between Rabastan and a fertile Pureblood to get the Heirs his family needed and keep his Grandson safe at the same time. It was the only way and he couldn’t afford to wait until Rabastan was more himself before accepting this contract, because Lucius was not going to wait around. Who knew when another offer like this would come up for Rabastan?

Azkaban had ruined the both of his Grandsons and Xerxes was never more distraught or furious as the day that they had been arrested and sentenced to life in Azkaban. He’d had his manor house searched several times after that incident looking for ‘evidence’ that it had been a planned attack, but they’d never found anything at his home because it hadn’t been planned at his home. His Grandsons were both reasonably intelligent men and had known that if he’d gotten so much as a sniff of what they were doing then he’d have put an immediate stop to it, not because he wasn’t loyal to his Lord, and his very old school friend at that, but because he would have known that it was a suicide mission and he would have stopped them and encouraged them to wisely bide their time instead of going after the Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom.

In hindsight it was obvious that they hadn’t known anything, what with their Lord telling them what had really happened with the baby Harry Potter, but emotions had been running high and for them, the truly loyal, it had been a time of great despair and a good few of them had almost outed themselves in the emotional lack of sanity that had followed the demise of their Lord. Or at least they had believed it was his demise until the rumours had started spreading of him still being alive.

Xerxes had followed these rumours carefully; he had subtly searched and gathered together some compelling evidence. He had never been more happy than when he’d seen his Lord again for the first time. He hadn’t been in the graveyard for his Lord’s rebirth, though. He’d been in Albania searching out information, which had become more than just mere rumours to him at that time. He’d been welcomed back as an old friend once he’d gotten himself back to Britain after he had felt his mark heat up for the first time in thirteen long years and after his Lord had seen from his mind that he had been searching for him and planning for his return, he had been named as one of his Lord’s most loyal followers, as he always had been.

He had mourned for the lost men that his boys were though and what they could have been, what they could have done had they stayed out of Azkaban, but Frank and Alice Longbottom had been famous, popular Aurors, the reason why his two Grandsons, Bellatrix and the young Barty Crouch had believed they’d had information on their Lord, but inevitably the Wizengamot, devoid of most Pureblood Lords that day thanks to Barty Crouch senior, had punished them harshly with a life sentence in Azkaban.

He had tried over and over again, as many times as he could within a singular calendar year, to appeal the sentence for Rabastan and Rodolphus, but if he wasn’t ignored completely, he was denied without anyone hearing his full appeal, which angered him immensely.

His house had been raided twice so far this year by the Aurors, with warrants to search his property as he wouldn’t let them onto his grounds without one, to search for his two Grandsons as he was continuously accused of harbouring them. Something he was actually guilty of, but this house was old…old, crooked and misshapen. It was incredibly easy to hide small alcoves behind tapestries, in the back of cupboards and even in the walls themselves, the very reason for the unsymmetrical exterior that the Lestranges were ridiculed for, but not a single raid on this manor house had ever yielded results, something that the other Pureblood families, with their perfect, pretty, immaculately measured manors, couldn’t boast.

His wards would alert him to the presence of Aurors on his grounds, as they had to walk up his driveway as he refused to lift the anti-trespassing wards on his estate, at which point he sent his house elf to Rodolphus and Rabastan and they hid themselves in the very walls of the manor house until the danger had passed.

Xerxes got the feeling that the Aurors knew that his boys were here, it was obvious that they were here, but without the proof, every failed raid was a stain on the Auror records and built proof for him to file against them for selective harassment, which would look terrible in the newspapers for them as he was now of an ‘advanced’ age. Regardless of who he was or what his Grandsons had done, the harassment and continuous hounding of an elderly wizard who had proved his ‘innocence’ repeatedly was not going to go down well for the Aurors with the wizarding public. Thus he and his beloved Grandsons were mostly left alone for them to heal and when they did have any _visitors_ he could hide them safely without any fear that they’d be found.

He thanked his early ancestors for being paranoid bastards and being intelligent and cunning enough to be able to build this house themselves with so many hidden rooms, alcoves and hollow walls that everything the Ministry would class as ‘unsavoury’, even his Grandsons, could be hidden safely and the Aurors who came to search his house didn’t find anything that they were looking for, even though they found the more obvious hidden rooms, even the steps to the underground basement which were located in the back of the pantry, the only found them because he had let the Aurors see these rooms and he happily allowed them to think that they’d uncovered his ‘secret’ hiding places, all of which were clean and free of all subjects that were considered ‘dark’ by the Ministry, which left the Aurors frustrated and angry at their continuous failed raids.

All of his books on Dark magic were kept in a second library that was completely sealed off on all sides and could only be accessed by a painting on the second floor that had to be tapped with a wand in the correct sequence before it turned into a doorway. All of his dark artefacts were in several rooms that were all sealed in a similar way, but never exactly the same way, for safety reasons.   

He went to find his Grandsons now, not surprised to find Rabastan sat nearly on his brother’s lap, clutching at him as Rodolphus tried his best to accommodate his more than bulky brother while attempting to read a book.

 

“Rabastan, stop trying to climb your brother like a tree. Sit properly.” He encouraged as he took the seat opposite them.

 

Rabastan did so reluctantly, but his hand slipped down to entwine with his older brother’s. Xerxes sighed, it was likely the best that he was going to get, which was an improvement from when the two had first been broken out of the prison several months ago when Rabastan wouldn’t even go to the bathroom on his own and they’d slept together in the same bed, entwined tightly around one another’s bodies like lovers.

 

“I’ve just finalised the contract for you to sign. It has been confirmed by Saint Mungos that Harry Potter is a gene carrier and he is fully able to fall pregnant, so there are no problems in going ahead with the betrothal, our Lord is very pleased with this contract, tying Harry Potter to one of his most loyal followers and with the boy actually going through with it too, he’s very pleased.”

 

“It’s too soon, Grandfather. Rabastan isn’t ready for such things…it’s too intricate, the fine nuances and political manoeuvres are going to be too much for him, for the both of us, to handle and neither of us want to embarrass the Lestrange name through our actions at the bonding meetings, in front of the Malfoys no less.”

 

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, Rodolphus. We have some time to prepare, but your brother will be forty years old in just a few more years, it’s far past the time for him to marry. You yourself were married at fifteen; thanks in part to your idiot of a Father, but still, you are married. All Lestranges have married straight out of school, Rabastan is the only exception.”

 

“This is because I can’t have a child with Bellatrix, isn’t it?” Rodolphus asked through gritted teeth.

 

“It certainly doesn’t help.” Xerxes said sternly. “After you both, there is no Heir to the Lestrange line…our family; our _heritage_ , will die with you both if you remain childless. Do you want that?! To be the ones to end our proud, noble heritage because you didn’t feel ready to take up your mantles and produce a legitimate child for our line? We are the only ones left! We are down to just four men in the entire line and there are no more out branches of our family tree to rely on, they’ve all died out. I have done my part, your Father, as useless as he is, has done his part by having you both, at this moment we are on the cusp of extinction, it’s time for you to have as many children as possible to bulk up the chances of our line surviving another generation and as you are never going to have a child with Bellatrix then this pressure will fall solely on Rabastan as the only one left to do so…I will see this betrothal match made and I will see you married and with children.”

 

“Where do I sign?” Rabastan asked.

 

“There.” Xerxes pointed out to his Grandson and watched critically as Rabastan took out the wand he was using in place of the one that was in Ministry control, split the tip of his finger and took the quill that was handed to him, dipped it into the well of blood on the tip of his finger and then signed his name neatly, if a bit shakily, with his right hand, on the line at the end of the contract. Harry’s signature was already signed neatly on the contract, in blood, which made this betrothal a legally binding, magical contract where the terms outlined in the contract had to be fulfilled.

 

“I still say that it’s too soon for Rabastan to even be thinking of a betrothal contract. We are not even fully healthy, Grandfather!”

  

“I will hear no more of this, you have time to prepare and there is a week before Lucius has scheduled the first meeting, we are to go straight to our Lord afterwards, he wishes to know, from us personally, how the meeting goes with Potter. He is counting on us and we will not let him down.”

 

Xerxes strode away with the signed contract and he immediately sent it back to Lucius. He mourned for the men that his Grandsons could have been, but he would not see his line end with them both, there would be a new generation of Lestranges, even if he had to force the issue in order for it to happen.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry bounced his knee against the floor and he shifted his shoulders uncomfortably as Narcissa had dressed him impeccably to the back teeth, not only in his finest, most expensive set of new robes, but also in Malfoy family heirlooms, Potter jewels and Black gold and silver. He felt like a fucking pack horse.

 

“Calm yourself.” Lucius insisted. “You are a Pureblood, a Lord to the Potter and Black families and an adopted son of the Malfoy family. Stay calm, clear and be concise.”

 

“I remember my first conversation with Astoria.” Draco told him, his face pulling into a thoughtful faraway look as he stretched his memory all the way back to when he was six years old.

 

“Was it over which toys you wanted to play with?” Harry chucked.

 

Draco snorted. “Funnily enough, it was. She wanted to play with my brand new toy broomstick, that I’d only gotten a few days before if I remember rightly, and I didn’t want her to touch it. I think I hit her with it.”

 

“You did.” Lucius said. “I was sucking up to Lord Greengrass for the next two years until I finally got him a deal that he couldn’t refuse and the power was rightfully switched back to me. The things I went through for you.”

 

Draco huffed. “I was six!” He insisted.

 

“You hit a three year old girl over the head with a toy broom because she wanted to play with it.”

 

Harry couldn’t hold in his laughter and after a short burble, he had to struggle with himself as he strived to contain his amusement, taking in huge, deep breaths and holding it to regain his composure.

 

“Laugh it up, Potter.”

 

“Less of that, Draco. You’re brothers.” Narcissa chastised. “I would not have had any sons of mine refer to each other by anything other than their first names.”

 

“Yes, Mother.” Draco acquiesced meekly.

 

“It’s no wonder you prefer her sister if your first meeting with Astoria was you not willing to share anything and then hitting her.”

 

“Less of that too, Harry.” Narcissa told him. “Draco’s… _activities_ will not be shared so loosely with others.”

 

Harry nodded. “I understand.” He said before he could get a hex to the head for not using his words.

 

“Rabastan isn’t so bad; you could have been stuck with any other number of hideous and weak wizards.” Draco assured him. “Of course he is my Uncle’s brother through marriage, so I’m obligated to tell you his good qualities.”

 

“What about his bad qualities?” Harry asked nervously.

 

Draco shrugged. “I’ve only met him a handful of times since he got out of Azkaban and I was too young to remember him before he was imprisoned. He never leaves his brother’s side and he doesn’t speak either. He relied heavily on his brother while in Azkaban and now he can’t do anything without him. It’s only in the last few months that he’s stopped clinging to his brother’s arm all day every day. I’d heard that they even had to share the same bed.”

 

“Enough.” Lucius cut in sternly. “Our guests will be here momentarily, the Lestranges are not known for lateness. I will not risk having them hear such talk which could then compromise Harry’s betrothal.”

 

“Will…will he even speak to me?” Harry asked. He got a smack to the back of the head with the familiar hex for speaking when Lucius had closed the topic.

 

“He will.” He was told tersely and he bit his tongue to stave off his other questions.

 

He sipped at his tea and tried not to spill it in the flimsy, vintage, china cup, nor slam it down on the matching saucer. Narcissa hit him with a hex every single time he did that and she got a sour look on her face too, for daring to risk her finest china with his rough handling.

 

“I’m going to be sick.” He said softly.

 

“No you’re not, you’ll be just fine.” Lucius all but demanded of him.

 

Narcissa came over to him however, standing behind the settee that he was sat on and she stroked her hands across his slim, narrow shoulders and hummed lightly to him, calming and soothing him and Harry sunk into her hands, into her care for him, he’d never known anything else like it before and he found himself craving it desperately.

 

“Stop pandering to the boy Cissa, he’s sixteen, not four.”

 

“He wasn’t raised as we raised our Draco; he’s a different boy entirely, Lucius. We taught Draco how to handle pressure and nervousness, Harry hasn’t had that luxury.”

 

“You handle Quidditch matches alright.” Draco told him.

 

“That’s different. I can play Quidditch and I like it, it’s just a game and the nerves make me perform better when I’m in the air. This is completely different; this is my future marriage I’m trying to sort out. It’s not a game.”

 

“Try and apply the same tactics.” Narcissa told him kindly. “Use your nervousness to perform better today. Just remember what you’ve been taught. No nervous laughter, no embarrassing topics of conversation and don’t create awkward silences, keep the conversation flowing.”

 

“How do I do that when he won’t speak?” Harry asked.

 

“He will speak, just be patient with him, he’s still a man, Harry and he will have his pride. He just needs his brother to fall back on after all of the hardships that he’s been forced through. He’s just a little lost, is all.”

 

Harry nodded and sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. His nerves spiked back up when he thought about what the hell he was going to say, what did he say to a man who was thirty-six and had spent fifteen years in prison?

 

“What do I talk about?” He asked quietly.

 

“Your studies.” Draco told him immediately. “How you’re doing in school, what career you want, how many children you want. You’re not here to talk about niceties; you’re here to set up the budding beginnings of a marriage. Talk about your wealth, your Lordships, how you’re enjoying the Wizengamot meetings. Do not mention the weather or anything else just as inane and nothing to do with the war, or you risk offending them or making yourself look completely foolish. Talk about anything you think will help the Lestranges realise that you’ll be the perfect bride for Rabastan.”

 

Harry snarled and went to stand up to pummel Draco into mush, but Narcissa jerked on his shoulders and sat him back down, swatting his head as she did so.

 

“There will be _none_ of that.” She declared fiercely. “Don’t goad him, Draco. It’s far beneath this family. You know that he will be a consort, not a bride.”

 

Harry calmed himself down, simmering the cold rage that had just been there, under the surface, waiting to come out. He didn’t like this cold rage; he didn’t like the thought that he’d take it out on just anyone when the one person that he wanted to unleash it on was Bellatrix. She had been the one to kill Sirius, it was her fault that he was dead and his body lost to the veil. He’d even tried to cast the Cruciatus curse on her…the next time he’d take her advice and really, truly mean it, right down to his very soul. The next time, she wouldn’t be getting back up again and his curse would stick…

Harry felt a pinch to his shoulder and he took in a deeper than normal breath, but he didn’t show any other sign that he’d been pinched by Narcissa. He looked to where Lucius was greeting four people, who had been shown in by a house elf, and he swallowed, his heart started racing and his palms started to sweat.

He remained seated as was expected of him and he greeted Xerxes Lestrange first as the head of the Lestrange family. He smiled genuinely; he liked Xerxes, even if he was always sniffing around his ankles. Which was a hilarious analogy really as the man was three times the size of Harry at six foot six at least, where Harry was still waiting for a growth spurt at five foot three.

 

“This is my son, Rhadamanthus.” Xerxes introduced and Harry had to force a smile at the cold, calculating glitter in those pale eyes.

 

Rhadamanthus was shorter than his Father, at six foot two, but he had the same amount of muscle bulk and the same broad shoulders. It seemed that everything else he must have taken from his Mother, from the pale hair to the paler eyes.

Rhadamanthus squeezed his hand hard as he brought it to his lips, but instead of laying a simple pressure on the back of Harry’s hand with his lips, the man flicked out the tip of his slimy tongue and licked it, the angle made it impossible for anyone to see him doing such a thing, even Harry himself couldn’t see it, but he could feel it and he knew that the man had just offered him an insult.

He calmed himself and forced his body not to react to what had been done, he forced himself to ignore the glistening wet patch on the back of his hand and he had to fight with himself to keep from wiping it. Xerxes he liked…his son, Rhadamanthus, was a complete filthy pig.

 

“This is my oldest Grandson, Rodolphus.” Xerxes carried on, not knowing that his son had just offended and insulted him and had actually slobbered all over the back of his hand.

 

Rodolphus looked a lot like his Grandfather, tall at six foot five, broad shouldered, bulky rib cage and narrow hips, but that thick, dark hair had thinned out and looked a little listless, there were lines on his face that had nothing to do with age and his left hand twitched randomly, sometimes the twitch would carry on through his arm and up to his neck which would bulge with the effort it took the man to suppress the tick from finishing its movement.

Rodolphus was the ruin of a man, a man who had once been young, strong and handsome, who was now plagued with nerve damage, thinning hair and a body that would have been stunning if not for a serious amount of prolonged weight loss. He was too thin to carry off the broad shoulders and the robe he was wearing was oddly misshapen because his body was supposed to be carrying at least double the amount of weight that it currently had.

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Potter.” The man said darkly, those dark eyes that he shared with his grandfather glittered in almost the exact same way that his Father’s had. Harry wondered if this man was going to lick his hand too or just full out bite one of his fingers off.

 

He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until Rodolphus merely brushed his hand with his thin, too pale lips and then backed away. He was most definitely going to be sick, he swallowed hard.

 

“And this is my youngest Grandson, Rabastan, your betrothed.”

 

Harry didn’t want to look, but the lessons that Narcissa had beat into him wouldn’t let him avoid looking. Rabastan seemed completely lost. There was no other way that Harry could describe the way that Rabastan was staring at his older brother, almost longingly, like he wanted his brother to come and get him and lead him to where he needed to be and he couldn’t understand why his brother wasn’t doing so.

 

“Rabastan, go and greet Lord Potter.” Rodolphus told him in a quiet hiss, as if he were trying to keep the rest of the room from hearing him.

 

Rabastan was tall, taller than his Father, but shorter than his brother; it was hard to tell exactly how tall he was because he was hunched in on himself, as if for protection. His long, thin, rake like arms were crossed over his belly, as if to keep himself standing, his dark hair was just as thin and lifeless as his brother’s.

His face was wrinkled, like a raisin that had once been a grape but had had all of the moisture slowly sucked out of it. It didn’t look natural, it looked like it needed feeding and then all of that wrinkled skin would be full, perfect and unlined once again. Harry wondered if that was what Rabastan, and his brother, needed, feeding. Surely it couldn’t hurt to feed them both, they were rail thin, where he suspected before they’d been imprisoned they’d been strong, healthy and reasonably big men.

They’d been out of Azkaban for several months now; Harry wondered how long it usually took to counter that amount of starvation. He knew from experience that he had to take things slowly once he got to Hogwarts after a summer with the Dursleys or he’d be sick, that was usually only two months’ worth of a couple of missed meals. He couldn’t imagine fifteen years in that prison, being fed the slop that Sirius had told him the prisoners were kept alive on.

Rabastan still didn’t move though, staring beseechingly at his older brother, Harry could almost see him wondering why Rodolphus wasn’t coming to his aid and he could sense the mounting embarrassment of the remaining Lestrange family members as Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and him just sat and watched Rabastan expectantly. He understood that this must have been highly humiliating for the Lestranges and particularly entertaining for the Malfoys. Harry wasn’t having any of that though, he wouldn’t let anyone sneer or poke fun at this poor, lost man regardless of anything else.

With the whole room looking on at him expectantly and with an air of amusement, it heaped a great deal of pressure onto Rabastan and he was clearly ill equipped to deal with it, so, as no one moved to help Rabastan at all, and another hissed command from his Father this time didn’t garner any reaction either except to spurn Rabastan to stare harder at his brother, Harry stood suddenly, yet elegantly and he made his way to Rabastan, who cringed away from him, but thankfully he didn’t take a step back. Harry had no wish to chase his betrothed around the front room of Malfoy Manor.

He smiled reassuringly at Rabastan and slipped his hand into one of the huge, but almost skeletal thin, hands of Rabastan and he tugged him to the settee he’d been sat on. He sat down and thankfully Rabastan followed suit. He didn’t think it would be taken too kindly if he shoved the man to get him to sit down.

Now that Harry could see his face properly, he saw that Rabastan’s eyes were a very dark blue, though they were dull with nightmarish memories, not the brown of his grandfather and brother and not the pale brown of his Father. Harry wondered where the blue had come into the Lestrange line.

Harry only realised that he was still holding Rabastan’s hand when that thin, claw like hand clenched tight around his with an uncontrollable spasm. Harry gasped and tried not to yank his hand away and do more damage to it, but once the spasm had passed, he couldn’t help but pull it away, cradling his injured hand to his chest protectively. There was some serious strength in that ruined body, enough so that he’d thought that Rabastan could have easily crushed his hand with a bit more pressure.

 

“This is not going at all like I’d hoped.” Xerxes sighed sadly as he watched Harry inspect his hand critically.

 

“I told you that it was too soon, Grandfather.” Rodolphus said as he came to sit behind Rabastan and he clenched those shoulders tight in a hug, comforting his confused, lost looking brother, who turned to him and smiled for the first time since he’d arrived upon recognising who was touching him.

 

“Dolphus.” He said happily.

 

Rodolphus sighed and he looked at Harry with a little less venom than he had before.

 

“I apologise for my brother’s actions, he can’t control them. Neither of us can.” He said sourly.

 

“I understand and I don’t hold it against either of you.” Harry replied clearly after a short pause. “If Rabastan isn’t ready for this, then maybe it was a mistake.”

 

That venomous, glittery eyed look came back quicker than a flash and Rodolphus actually bared his teeth at him like an enraged, feral dog.

 

“Is that your attempt at subtlety? Your roundabout way of rejected my brother? He is still a Lestrange and deserves the respect of at least one full meeting before you just up and reject him!”

 

Harry took a breath and calmed himself, pushing away his fear and his anger.

 

“I can see how my words have been easily misconstrued.” He said politely. “I wasn’t subtly or otherwise trying to break the betrothal between us, just observing that perhaps this could have waited another couple of months, at least until the Winter break. The news of this betrothal is new to the both of us; perhaps it would have gone smoother if we’d had more time to digest the contents of the contract first.”

 

Rodolphus had the wind taken from his sails at that and he deflated a little, his shoulders shaking from the exertion of keeping them raised even for a short amount of time. He looked to his Grandfather.

 

“I see what you mean, Grandfather. He has got a tongue of silver.”

 

“You should have seen him put down that jumped up mudblood Head of Magical Transportation in the Wizengamot meeting. He ripped him to pieces in a slow, deliberate way that completely ruined all of his points of view and left him unable to come back from such a blow. A little sixteen year old wisp of nothing rationalising such a complex situation and coming up with that compelling argument, on his own mind you, and that mudblood was completely lost for words, he couldn’t even formulate a comeback, he was just gaping and mouthing like an uncivilised beast. I’ve never laughed so hard internally; I thought I was going to rupture my spleen.”

 

Harry let out a soft choke of laughter before he inhaled deeply and got control of himself again, adjusting his posture and relaxing his shoulders as he dropped his hands to his lap.

 

“It was my pleasure to… _enlighten_ him on the flaws of his proposal.” He answered instead, to cover for his slip of composure.

 

“You’ve really done well with him, Lucius. Imagine, just five weeks and you’ve turned him into this magnificent, intelligent beauty.” Xerxes complimented.

 

“Thank you, Xerxes. It wasn’t at all as difficult as you might believe. There is a reasonably strong, sound mind hidden under that hair.”

 

“You’re really beautiful.”

 

Harry looked, startled, at Rabastan to find the man studying him incredibly hard, focusing on every feature of his face. It immediately stopped him from pouting at Lucius’ roundabout compliment or complaining to him for making it, which likely would have earned him a punishment later, once the Lestranges had left.

Harry had expected Rabastan to have a shaky voice, that perhaps cracked or went through different pitches and octaves, but it was the opposite. His voice was strong, deep and even, an almost complete contrast to his appearance. His voice hadn’t changed over the years, but his appearance had. Harry found himself desperate to see the healthy body that matched that strong, deep voice.

 

Harry smiled at him. “Thank you for your compliment.”

 

“Your eyes are different. Most Purebloods have brown or blue eyes, or grey, but they’re rarer. Your eyes are green. I hope our children have your eyes.”

 

“Calm yourself, Rabastan; you’re here to talk about an engagement, not about potential children.” Rodolphus chastised his brother.

 

“Since I lost my last betrothal fourteen years ago I’ve had no one else of worth express interest in me.” Rabastan told his brother. “Who else will I marry and have children with if not the one who took the initiative and set up a contract with me?”

 

“What did I tell you about not sounding desperate?” Rhadamanthus snarled.

 

“He doesn’t sound desperate, I assure you.” Harry cut in as Rabastan drew back and reached for his brother’s hand. “There’s nothing wrong with thinking about children nor asking if your betrothed would like them. I would like them. I haven’t much thought about how many I’d like yet as I am still young, but if I’m honest; I’d like at least three.”

 

“Most Purebloods don’t have more than two, Harry.” Narcissa told him patiently.

 

“I know, but I’m not most people, am I? I’d like as many children as I can get, but three is a minimum. Though I am open to hearing debates.”

 

“You won’t get any from me.” Rabastan told him. That made Harry smile at him.

 

“Under usual circumstances I would advise you to stick to two or three children, but as the Lord for the Potter and the Black families, I would believe you have enough wealth to cover more if you wished for them and that is without carrying the Heir for the Lestrange line or taking into account the wealth of your potential Husband.”

 

“Rodolphus is still the Heir as my oldest son.” Rhadamanthus hissed.

 

“Don’t act foolish.” Xerxes demanded of his son. “Rodolphus and Bellatrix are not going to have children together; they can’t even stand in the same room without infuriating each other. You well and truly messed that match up, if I had known about it, I would have stopped you, those boys are more mine than they are yours and a Ministry hearing would declare them as such, as you well and truly know.”

 

Harry had done as he had sworn to do and he’d sent a clipped letter to Bellatrix, sealed with a blob of black wax with the Black family crest blotted onto it, which ordered her to have a fertility test. The results had come to him as her Head of House and the test had come back positive, she was fertile and able to have children; the problem it seemed wasn’t an issue of fertility, but an issue of actually getting the two parties into bed together and actually engaging in activities that would lead to a child and not to the death of one or both of them.

Bellatrix was completely in love with Voldemort and Rodolphus resented Bellatrix for a multitude of reasons including her disinterest in him, the disrespect she showed him, her obvious love and longing for their Lord and to an extent, her older age over himself. That and Bellatrix was no beauty like her other two sisters. It was widely believed that overuse of dark magic had disfigured and twisted her and Azkaban was no spa resort either.

 

“What electives have you taken this year?” Rodolphus asked him, seemingly content to warm up a little to him from his venomous malice that he’d shown when he’d arrived.

 

“I’m still taking Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astrology, History of Magic and Herbology, but I’m also taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as I passed in both of the exams I took over the summer to catch up. I had to take both my entry level exams and my O.W.Ls within weeks of each other.”

 

“Which electives were you taking before?”

 

Harry grimaced. “Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, both of which I was going to drop as useless subjects this year. I regret taking them both now and in hindsight, I wish I had taken Arithmancy and Ancient Runes from the beginning, I have so much to catch up on, but Draco is helping me too.”

 

“I was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures.” Draco put in.

 

“I was as well.” Harry sighed. “Unfortunately Hagrid’s idea of a magical creature doesn’t fall below four X’s on the Ministry’s classification guide, which would be brilliant if not for the lack of direction and safety. Those Blast-Ended Skrewts were particularly dangerous and disgusting.”

 

“I’m telling you he bred those things himself. There is no way that the Ministry’s Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department would have allowed those beasts out to the public.”

 

Harry chuckled. “You just didn’t know how to handle them!” He insisted.

 

“Funny, I seem to remember you being dragged around on your belly in one particular class. Leashing those monsters and having to walk them like they were mere crups!” Draco huffed indignantly.

 

Harry couldn’t help it as he threw his head back and laughed. “Do you remember the lesson where one of them set Crabbe on fire?”

 

It was Draco’s turn to snort in laughter. “I couldn’t forget it, I share a dorm room with him, he was blistered all along his one side, including his face.”

 

“Did it make much of an improvement?” Harry inquired in his best innocent tone of voice.

 

“Boys, calm yourselves.” Lucius cautioned them.

 

“Oh, let the boys talk, it’s entertaining. No one cares for those Crabbes; Vincent was matched to a thirty year old witch from Slovenia. Her blood is questionable as they claim she was born of her Father’s Pureblooded Wife who died in ‘childbirth’, but there are rumours that she’s the daughter of her Father’s Muggle bit on the side and that he killed his Wife to stop her from telling the truth about his Halfblooded wench.”

 

“Wouldn’t a blood test clear that up?” Harry questioned politely.

 

“It would clear it up perfectly, but adding fire to the rumours, he refuses to produce definitive proof that his daughter had Pure blood and hides behind a wall of indignant anger that anyone would dare ask about his daughter’s blood purity or dare call him a liar. I refused a contract between her and Rabastan immediately and answered back that I was insulted that he even considered his Halfblooded bitch to be a worthy match of my Rabastan.”

 

Harry chuckled politely, but he had to wonder what Xerxes thought he was, because Harry was actually a Halfblood, even if he had been legitimised. Was the Lestrange family actually that desperate for a match for Rabastan? Draco had told him that the four men were the last of their line and that even the far out branches of their once large and illustrious tree had thinned and then dwindled to nothing until the four men in this room were the last of their line and Rodolphus was married to Bellatrix who would not be producing an Heir for the Lestrange line and Rabastan, who was not a good catch at the moment because he was an escaped felon and he was ruined by a decade and a half in Azkaban.

Harry didn’t care for such physical aesthetics; he knew that given some time and a lot of decent meals and certain potions then Rabastan and Rodolphus would be perfectly healthy, handsome men again. They’d always be mentally scarred from their fifteen year stint in Azkaban, locked in with the Dementors, but the physical damage done by the prison and the lack of truly nutritious food would disappear over time.

They were served tea and tiny, dainty little cakes an hour later at Lucius’ command to a house elf; neither Rodolphus or Rabastan touched the food and Harry wondered why, surely such a little cake would help them.

 

“We’re on strict diets.” Rodolphus told him when Harry had politely inquired. “To help us gain the maximum weight in as little time as possible we have to stick to a strict regime of food and potions to help us combat the damage that Azkaban has done. Even something as small as those cakes would throw us off of a seven month plan and could do us more harm than good. We need to stick to our scheduled eating times and our specially tailored meal plans or we might be forced to go back to square one and start all over again.”

 

“Do not mention that to your brother’s potential suitor!” Rhadamanthus hissed.

 

Harry could hold back the chuckle. “It’s not as if we can’t all see the ramifications of their fifteen years in Azkaban. Why shouldn’t it be mentioned?”

 

“Harry!” Lucius growled at him and Harry closed himself off immediately.

 

He resettled himself, straightened his spine, pulled his shoulders back and adjusted his chin to sit at a ninety degree angle. He looked straight ahead and kept an empty, vapid smile on his face as his hands curled together in his lap.

 

“No, he’s right. It’s obvious that we’ve both been in Azkaban, look at us! We’re hardly the picture of virile health and with our uncontrollable twitches, it’s not like we can hide it. Rabastan almost crushed Lord Potter-Black’s hand!” Rodolphus spat at his Father.

 

A soft touch to said hand had Harry curiously peeking, he couldn’t help it as his curiosity won out over a potential hex to the head for dropping his chin, but he found Rabastan’s hand touching his own, not gripping it like he had when Harry had led him to the settee, but his shaky fingers brushed over the top of his hand gently as he cradled it in his hand.

Harry smiled and put his other hand over the top of Rabastan’s holding it tight.

 

“I think we can leave it here for today.” Lucius said. “They seemed to be receptive to one another and that’s really all the first meeting looks for between the betrothed.”

 

Xerxes Lestrange agreed with Lucius and Harry said a soft goodbye to Rabastan, honestly sorry to see him go. They hadn’t interacted much, but there was a smothered vulnerability to the youngest Lestrange that Harry couldn’t help but notice and it made him want to protect the older man and nurse him back to health. He hoped that he got to see more of Rabastan before he had to go back to Hogwarts; he had genuinely enjoyed his company.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m so very pleased at the response that this story has garnered! I’m so happy, thank you to all of you for your feedback and reviews, I loved reading all of them and hearing what you thought of this new fic! I decided to give you the second chapter early as I am so pleased with the response it’s gotten and I hope that you’ve all enjoyed this chapter just as much!
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	3. Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Of Stories Told, for two incredible reviews and that last one, lovelie was just epically immense. Thank you so very much and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the first two.
> 
> Last Time
> 
> “I think we can leave it here for today.” Lucius said. “They seemed to be receptive to one another and that’s really all the first meeting looks for between the betrothed.” 
> 
> Xerxes Lestrange agreed with Lucius and Harry said a soft goodbye to Rabastan, honestly sorry to see him go. They hadn’t interacted much, but there was a smothered vulnerability to the youngest Lestrange that Harry couldn’t help but notice and it made him want to protect the older man and nurse him back to health. He hoped that he got to see more of Rabastan before he had to go back to Hogwarts; he had genuinely enjoyed his company.

Chapter Three – Hogwarts

 

Harry had finished all of his sixty-three books by the third week of August, including three apiece on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, which Lucius and Draco were helping him with.

He’d been spanked again twice, once for throwing his book in a fit of anger (it had gone through a window and had hit one of Lucius’ prized albino peacocks) and the second had been for fighting with Draco. It had gone from duelling practice to a full out fist fight in which Harry had gotten a busted lip and Draco was sporting an imprint of Harry’s teeth in the side of his rib cage…indents that had broken the skin and had welled up with drops of blood. Draco had been called uncouth and had gone over his Father’s knee; Harry had been called a barbarian savage and had gone over his Father’s knee. They had been further punished by being forced to stand in opposite corners of Lucius’ study, facing the wall while Lucius worked at his desk behind them. They had stayed there, silently and unable to move or even fidget, for forty minutes. Which had seemed like an eternity to Harry, who had wanted nothing more than to stretch his legs out.

They’d been made to apologise to one another and shake hands ‘like civilised men’ before they’d been allowed to leave Lucius’ study.

Harry had met with the four Lestranges a further five times since his first initial meeting and he was now a little more comfortable talking to Rabastan and his older brother, Rodolphus, but he still did not like or trust Rhadamanthus at all. The man, and Harry used that term lightly, made sure to insult and belittle him as often as he could without letting on that that was what he was doing. Harry swore that he would not forget a single instance where Rhadamanthus had insulted him and he would repay him back in kind once he was in a better position to do so. He would bide his time and he would get his own revenge on the vile man.

Allegedly his and Rabastan’s betrothal meetings were going very well; Harry didn’t know what was happening, so he just went with it and agreed. The next time that he met with Rabastan, they were going to go on a chaperoned walk around the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Harry had almost laughed himself sick at that and had earned two hexes to his head for lack of composure and still he had been wiping away tears of laughter afterwards.

He still got a barrage of owls daily from the Weasleys, from Dumbledore, from Hermione and from Remus. He even got letters from members of the Order, some of them he’d never even spoken to before …but Harry was now required to reply to letters from Rabastan, so he could only send half the amount of the letters he had been sending to Remus previously because his ‘mail allowance’ was being eaten up by required letters to Rabastan as his betrothed.

He was surprised to find that he actually enjoyed receiving letters from Rabastan, the man was a little hair brained in his letters and his cursive needed a lot of work because his random twitches meant that he had huge score marks through his parchment, leaving behind blots and scrawls of ink that made it difficult to read, but when Harry had deciphered the words under the scratches and blots, he found himself laughing and smiling at the letters. Rabastan was able to make him laugh at just a letter and it always made him wish that their next meeting was that much closer, so that he could see him sooner.

It was very, very difficult to place Rabastan, and hell, even Rodolphus, into the mould of Bellatrix. Though they had been in Azkaban for the same amount of time, Harry reasoned that Bellatrix had had to have been insane _before_ she’d gone to Azkaban, or at the very least she’d had to have been mentally unhinged. He remembered how she was from the Ministry, how she acted and spoke, the irrational mutterings and the gleam of insanity in her dark, hooded eyes.

Comparing her to the Lestrange brothers, it was like comparing a pair of wolves to a manticore. All of them were dangerous, but the wolves were more likely to back away from a fight and a manticore never would. It was incredibly violent and dangerous and would not give up until its prey was dead.  He understood that the Lestrange brothers were no saints, of course he did, but after everything he was finding out about people he had thought he’d known, he was beginning to think that no one in the wizarding world were.

He was also sure that Lucius Malfoy was drugging him with potions or something, a few drops of calming draught in his breakfast, it’s not like he couldn’t buy them easily enough, or even get them made for him, he was friends with Snape after all, but Harry just couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

Everything that he had known was a lie, his world had been turned upside down, what was he supposed to do now? He hadn’t wanted to stay with the Dursleys, he didn’t want to impose on the Weasleys and frankly speaking, there was nothing he could do about his adoption. He was the legal ward of Lucius Malfoy whether he liked it or not, so why shouldn’t he take advantage of what that offered to him while he could? He was having lessons, he was learning two new subjects, he had all the books he could wish for, he was being taught what he needed to know about his Lordships and his estates and he was learning things that he knew Dumbledore would never have taught him. Why shouldn’t he accept all of that for himself, even if it was from Lucius Malfoy?

He was taking all of this a lot better than he thought he would have, especially after his blow up in Gringotts bank and the icy anger he’d been carrying around with him, which is why he suspected potions involvement, but he really did not care. He would learn everything that he possibly could, he would set up a name and a life for himself, and he would marry Rabastan Lestrange. The man was too influential to pass up, his name added to the Lestrange family would give him considerable clout and a certain level of respect and he could then pass that onto his future children. Plus he knew that Dumbledore would hate him marrying a Lestrange, which was part of why he had accepted the man in the first place, so that he could spite Dumbledore and his fucking plans, but seeing Rabastan, so hurt and lost and utterly ruined from Azkaban, a skeleton of a man, Harry found that he wanted to marry Rabastan to help him, not to abuse him further. He didn’t have it in him to abuse a man who was already suffering so much. Who was he to kick a poor man who was already down on the floor and hunched over?

No, he would marry Rabastan and he would make a life for himself and even if he had to spoon the potions into his mouth, sooth him through nightmares in the middle of the night and massage his muscles through the painful twitching and cramping, he would raise and nurse Rabastan back to full health. Or as much as he possibly could, as he was almost sure that Rabastan would never be fully recovered from his long years spent in Azkaban, a place like that with so much exposure to the Dementors had to cause permanent damage in one way or another, but he would do his utmost best to help Rabastan. He would get the life that he had always dreamed of, he would have a Husband and he would have children and he would live as peacefully as he could. No Dumbledore, no Dursleys and no war, just him, Rabastan and their children. That’s all he wanted and he was going to do his all to get that, even if he had to take orders and spankings from Lucius, if he had to take elocution and posture lessons from Narcissa and even if he had to let Draco stare down his nose at him and teach him Arithmancy and Ancient Runes in that haughty drawl.

He would sit and take it all without a murmur, because he was learning what he needed to know in order to advance himself. He would make a name for himself and he would make Lucius and Narcissa proud of him, because it’s all he’d ever really wanted and now that he was free of the Dursleys and free of Dumbledore and his responsibilies towards the wizarding world regarding the war, he was going to everything that he wanted to do and what made _him_ happy, starting with learning as much as he possibly could, making his adoptive parents proud in the process and he was going to start the budding of his future marriage to Rabastan, he would get what he wanted, because he wasn’t going to give up until he had his dream come true.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Today Harry was being taken to another Wizengamot meeting, only this time Lucius was actually going ahead of him and Harry was to use the Portkey in his ring for the first time in preparation for the new school year and to prove that the lessons he’d been taking on magical forms of travelling were going to allow him to keep his feet and walk away elegantly once he landed at the Ministry.

He was naturally nervous as Lucius was going to be watching his every small movement upon landing. Harry just hoped that he didn’t fall flat on his face like he had two years ago at the Quidditch World Cup…at least then he’d had several other people fall flat on their faces like he had, today he was going to be alone, he was going to have to land alone and there would be no one to laugh it off with if he did land flat on his face. He would be thoroughly humiliated and he would bring shame to the Malfoy family and to himself. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

He took several deep, even, calming breaths and waited for his Portkey to activate, counting it down so that he was prepared for when it actually activated instead of being caught off guard. As a result, he arrived at the Ministry and had taken a nice, even step forward on his arrival and he carried on taking steps forward, despite how blurry and unfocused his eyes were and how confused and dizzy he felt.

He blinked rapidly and his vision finally cleared and his head stopped spinning and the wave of nausea ebbed away and he found Lucius staring at him hard, his mouth a neutral line, but his slate grey eyes glittered with pride and as Harry made it to him and Lucius fell in step beside him, one long, slender hand touched his elbow and squeezed.

 

“I am very proud of you in this moment.” Lucius told him. “You have worked hard, you’ve listened to everything you’ve been told and today, you didn’t even hesitate to take a step forward, you looked so elegant and poised.”

 

Harry’s lips twitched, but he pulled it back and took another breath; he found that it helped to centre him so he could keep his composure better. 

They took the lift down into the depths of the Ministry and they got off on the second level which held the meeting room for the Wizengamot, they only used the courtrooms for actual trials.

Harry went out of his way to greet Lord Xerxes Lestrange before anyone else in the room and he fell into easy conversation with him. He knew explicably that any talk of Rodolphus or Rabastan was forbidden, as was his betrothal, or any mention that he was joining the Lestrange family. He’d already shoved his foot into his mouth at the last Wizengamot meeting by exclaiming, loudly, that he was betrothed to an escaped felon…if anyone had heard him that day then he and Lucius could have been arrested and questioned with Veritaserum. He’d been punished incredibly harshly for that slip up and he’d been made to swear that it would _never_ happen again.

 

“Lord Potter-Black, it is nice to see you so close to the new school year.”

 

Harry plastered on a false smile as he turned from the witch he had been greeting to face the short, stumpy wizard with the thick, black moustache that took up most of the lower half of his face. “Of course. I have to come to every meeting called, you know that.” Harry replied in a way that showed his scepticism of the man’s intelligence without actually coming out and saying it, Lucius had taught him how to do that too. Harry remembered this vile wizard from his hearing last year…he’d voted in favour of him being convicted of all crimes. Him and his little posse of ugly, elderly witches. He’d never forgive any of them for trying to convict him and get him expelled from Hogwarts.

 

“I would have believed you’d be getting ready for school.”

 

“I’m all ready for the new term. Draco and I went with Mother and Father to collect our new books, robes and equipment earlier this week, neither of us wanted to deal with the rabble that comes from the last minute rush to fight and argue over the remaining dregs.”

 

“Well, my niece’s daughter is about your age, you know. Perhaps you’d like to get to know one another so that you might get closer? She goes to Beauxbatons you see.”

 

“I’m sorry; all betrothal suitors must go through my Father.” Harry said promptly, grinning internally as he imagined the look on Lucius’ face if this Halfblood actually petitioned one of his sons for a betrothal.

 

The man blustered. “A betrothal? You are a sixteen year old boy and Pollyanne is just fifteen. Children your age shouldn’t be thinking of marriage or things like betrothals!”

 

“Might I remind you that I am Lord Potter-Black and my status as such far exceeds yours. My Father believes me in need of a betrothal. He is currently searching for a match for me and I shall not go against his wishes. Excuse me.”

 

Harry strode away to stand with Lucius and Xerxes, a few other Lords with them who were either accused of being Death Eaters themselves or their children were accused of being Death Eaters. He held back his grimace at being in such company by the skin of his teeth. He hated the situation that he had been forced into, associating with Death Eaters and the like and it was all because of Dumbledore, and Lucius to an extent for adopting him, but that had only been made possible because of Dumbledore’s lies and manipulations, not to mention the neglect of him as his so called magical guardian.

 

“Your conversation with that imbecile seemed to be quite… _riveting_.” One of the accused Death Eaters sneered.

 

“Not particularly.” Harry answered calmly, his left hand fisted tight that social decorum insisted that he couldn’t ignore someone who had directly spoken to him. “He wished to introduce me to his niece’s daughter, apparently she is fifteen, around my own age, and he’d hoped that we would _get closer._ ” Harry stressed, keeping his facial expressions under control so that he wouldn’t sneer at the thought of being with a fifteen year old girl.

 

“That’s not quite in your desired betrothal prerequisites, is it?” One Lord, who actually wasn’t a known Death Eater as far as he knew, teased him.

 

“Not entirely.” Harry said allowing a small smirk to peek through.

 

“Gentlemen, and ladies, if you’d like to take your seats, I would call this meeting to order.” The new Chief Warlock, a man definitely not on Dumbledore’s preferred persons or recommendation list, called out to them as he took his seat at the head of the ‘D’ shaped table. His chair was the only one at the straight section of the table, which was otherwise filled with folders and pieces of parchment.

 

The rest of the Wizengamot members were sat around the curved table that allowed them all to see the Chief Warlock and able to see every member of the rest of the Wizengamot too. Harry was sat between Lucius and Xerxes again, as he had been in the previous meeting, ever since his betrothal had been officially signed with Rabastan.

 

“Our first order of business for this called meeting is a case of underaged magic in Hull. A twelve year old seems to have turned her Mother into a bird late last night.”

 

“Were there witnesses?” One elderly wizard asked.

 

“Four. The girl was having a sleepover with her Muggle friends. It seems the Mother interrupted them and told the group of girls to be quieter, it being the middle of the night at the time, and the girl lost her temper and suddenly her Mother was flying around their heads and bouncing off of the windows. The Muggle girls saw everything.”

 

Harry listened carefully and patiently as the members of the Wizengamot hemmed and hawed back and forth, each trying to be the one to get the others to agree with their points of view, yet not giving any clear solution to the situation. One member’s solution was so harsh and over the top that Harry felt the need to offer up his own solution quicker than he usually would have, given that he was still observing and learning, but he couldn’t see a young, twelve year old witch be expelled and have her wand snapped and her life ruined for an accidental outburst of magic. He wouldn’t allow it.

 

“I believe.” Harry started carefully and deliberately after hearing enough of his fellow members’ mindless, insipid arguments and their weak points of view. “That this is just a case of magic reacting to high emotion, where the underage witch in question was feeling one particular strong emotion and she couldn’t maintain her control over her juvenile magic. It lashed out which resulted in her Mother, the cause for the witch in question’s emotional distress at the time, being ‘removed’ from the situation. I vote that the underage witch gets a warning and additional lessons on controlling emotional outbursts and the four Muggle witnesses be Obliviated.”

 

“Lord Potter-Black raises a very strong observation. The witch in question claims to have not had her wand on her, or even near her when this incident occurred and to give credit to her story, there was no alert from the Trace on her wand and the last spell she had cast with it was the levitation charm. There were no other wands found at the property.”

 

“Then there is no case against her. I vote in favour of Lord Potter-Black. The girl should be warned and have additional lessons and the four Muggles should have their memories of that night removed.” One member said pompously.

 

“Have the four Muggles told anyone else of what transpired at their little _sleepover_?” Lucius asked silkily.

 

“No, Lord Malfoy. They have been under Ministry care since the incident.”

 

Lucius nodded once. “Then I also vote in favour of Lord Potter-Black.”

 

Harry controlled himself and kept still and calm as the majority of the Wizengamot voted in favour of his offered solution to the problem. He was getting better and better at this and he was making a name for himself, a real, proper name that he was building all on his own.

He was elated and overall, he was so very glad that Lucius Malfoy had adopted him as his own son six weeks ago now. He’d come such a long way in just six weeks, he’d learnt so much, had been taught so much and very soon he’d be back in Hogwarts, where Draco would help direct him, but where he’d mostly be left to stand on his own two feet, to bring pride to the Malfoy name, but more importantly, to bring pride to his _own_ name.

He’d worked so hard, he’d done absolutely nothing else in these last six weeks but read, learn and work hard, listening to instructions and receiving lessons from Lucius and Narcissa and even Draco. It had been such a hectic time, where he was always doing something, where he was always learning and being taught something new. He’d been dragged through a crash course in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, Draco had tested him and then tested him again, correcting him and showing where he was going wrong and why and he’d managed to only just scrape an ‘A’ in both subjects, just enough to get into the N.E.W.T classes, but he was still reading through several books on the subject and when he finished those, there would be another several afterwards. There was always something else to learn, always another book to read. It was never ending, but still he wouldn’t change things, because he’d been blind to the deception and he’d been lied to and led around in the dark. He’d had no clue how deep it had gone until Lucius had opened his eyes for him. He couldn’t go back to that now. He wouldn’t ever go back, no matter what that now meant for his future. Everything had changed and his trust in Dumbledore had been thoroughly demolished and there would be no rebuilding anything. He was far too busy to waste his time on Dumbledore.

It was non-stop, but he was learning so much that he didn’t care and with Lucius continuously pushing him, he never really had the time to just stop and think about anything. He continued with his lessons, he continued with his books, he studied hard for the Wizengamot meetings and he was perfect, poised and elegant in his meetings with Rabastan, which were going very well and Rabastan no longer needed his older brother, Rodolphus, to sit next to him when he came to visit him now. Rodolphus was able to sit on the settee opposite them and hold his own conversations with Lucius, Narcissa and Draco, or with his Father or Grandfather if he chose, while Harry sat and spoke softly to Rabastan, who had latched onto him on their fourth face to face meeting and now looked to him to help him and direct their conversations instead of relying solely on Rodolphus, which eased the stress off of both of the brothers.

Harry was getting better at coaxing an answer out of Rabastan and he was getting better at following the threads of their conversations, so that he would be able to offer words to Rabastan when he lost his train of thought or got tongue tied, which not only helped Rabastan, but it proved as well that Harry was listening and following what he was saying, which boosted his confidence.

Rabastan himself was also getting better and more comfortable and he was slowly creeping out of his shell. Harry had made his own observation that Rabastan’s Father, Rhadamanthus, was not helping Rabastan to recover at all, what with his hissed comments and his sneers and snarls. He was at least civil to Rodolphus, but he was utterly vile to Rabastan and when Harry couldn’t hold his tongue any longer and had pointed out the unfair treatment. His betrothed had told him that he hadn’t seen his Father until he was nineteen years old and they hadn’t liked one another then as Rhadamanthus was a complete stranger to him and Rabastan had not listened to a word his ‘Father’ had said thus causing friction and a lot of animosity between them. Then, just two short, horrible years later and Rabastan was thrown into Azkaban and he or Rodolphus hadn’t seen the man who had abandoned them for another fifteen years.  

No, Rhadamanthus was poisonous to Rabastan’s recovery, Harry had to find a way to get rid of him and soon, especially after all the insults he’d given to him, especially the one on their very first meeting, he hadn’t forgotten about that, he never would, and he would find a way to repay the man who had slobbered all over his hand and continued to insult him despite the fact, or maybe because of the fact, that he was betrothed to his youngest son.

The vile man was hurting his future Husband, he was holding him back and was threatening their marriage prospects, Harry couldn’t have that happening, not when he had found that he actually liked Rabastan, who was such a strong, prideful man, who wanted so much to just protect him, but was currently unable to do so.

It was…mind opening to see, yet heart breaking at the same time to watch this ruin of a man trying to act like the strong protector that he wanted to be when he couldn’t even stand up for more than half an hour at a time. It saddened him and it made him want to help Rabastan achieve the strength that he craved, the man that he needed to be to be fully happy. It was going to be a slow, painful road, but Harry was not going to give up on this. He was not going to give up on Rabastan or his betrothal contract. He was fully committed to his betrothal and he was going into this contract with the thoughts of a marriage at the end of it fully in his plans, if he’d done anything else then he would have been discounting Rabastan without giving him a proper chance and that wasn’t fair to the youngest Lestrange, who was now legally his Grandfather’s Heir as of last week and now had the full weight and pressure of carrying on the Lestrange line and Harry was his only viable prospect at the moment, which meant that if Harry broke off his betrothal to Rabastan, then it was likely that the Lestrange line would die out with the deaths of Rodolphus and Rabastan.

Rabastan needed to produce a child, preferably more than one, or rather as many as he possibly, physically could, which actually suited Harry quite well with his three child minimum request.

As Lucius had pointed out to him, most Purebloods as a rule did not have more than two children; in fact most of them didn’t even want children in the first place but needed at least one of them to carry on their Pureblood lines. One such man was Lord Greengrass, who hadn’t wanted any children at all, but his older brother had died suddenly, thrusting all of the pressure to carry on the Greengrass name onto his shoulders. So he had married quickly, before he was out of Hogwarts, and he’d hoped for only the one ‘snivelling brat’ but his Wife had had a daughter, Daphne. He had forced himself to try again and his Wife had again given him a daughter, Astoria. Two was about as much as his fraying wits could handle, so he had told his lone paternal Uncle that if he now had a son then the title of Lord Greengrass would pass to the boy, because he just could not deal with any more children.

Harry was different, he wanted as many children as possible and if he had to pass on the Lestrange, Potter and Black names to his children then he not only needed three children at a minimum, but he needed three boys. He grinned in the privacy of his bed suite, he was going to try for as many children as he could and as he was going to be the one to carry them, then he couldn’t see how Rabastan could complain overly much, especially not if he promised to name more than one child of his as a Lestrange.

He laughed to himself as a mental image of Rabastan fussing over two young children and three toddlers while shushing a newborn in his arms popped into his mind. If he had his way, then Rabastan was going to be a very busy man after they’d gotten married.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Albus Dumbledore was sat in a soft armchair with a cup of soothing tea as he carefully mulled over everything that had happened this summer. Everything had changed and all because of one boy. He sighed and wondered what on earth had gone wrong. Where had everything turned off of the path that he had meticulously set up over the years and carefully laid out one event, one situation, at a time?

He’d planned for little steps off of the path, nothing ever went completely to plan after all, so he had given enough room to allow for such things, for example who would have ever believed that Sirius Black was capable of escaping from Azkaban prison? He certainly hadn’t and it had come as a nasty shock when he had been informed that Sirius Black had escaped from the allegedly unbreachable, inescapable prison.

Yet he had made adjustments accordingly and the path, though it was now a little meandering, had carried on as he had planned. Black had actually ended up being rather useful, which had pleased him. He’d gotten the use of the Black townhouse for the Order of the Phoenix, which had already been heavily layered with wards built into the very foundations of the house, and he’d made Harry and Remus very happy, which suited his plans just fine as it created a closer tie between him and them.

Everything had started going wrong last year, in the summer before Harry’s fifth year at Hogwarts. He had come to Grimmauld Place angry and unsettled. The slightest little nudge set off his anger and in those furious green eyes, he’d seen shadows of things that he would rathered have not seen. That was another step off of his path…he had immediately started researching and digging into small, hidden wells of lost information, was it even _possible_ for a living person to be a Horcrux?

He’d given Harry over to Severus, and under the guise of Occlumency lessons, he’d instructed Severus to see if he could find the Horcrux fragment that was no doubts buried somewhere in the boy’s mind, likely under the cursed scar that had made a sort of opening into the boy’s body for the soul fragment to enter. He’d told Severus to do whatever he needed to in order to find the Horcrux, to rip past any barrier, to delve as deeply as he could regardless of the pain and disorientation it would cause Harry, no matter how far into the boy’s mind he had to go in order to find it. He needed to be sure, but what Severus had found had still surprised him, even as it also confirmed his suspicions, Harry was indeed a Horcrux. He was a piece in the puzzle that was keeping Voldemort alive, no matter how unwittingly or unknowingly. The boy now had to die.

It was a shame really, he’d liked Harry and he knew that the boy would have gone far in life after this war, if he had survived it to begin with that is, but now, now he had to repave his path…it had to take a different route to the one that he had originally planned and set up, and now, as unfortunate as it was, Harry had to die on that path for there to be true peace in the world.

The boy had taken such a huge step off of the path this summer though. He had never expected Harry to disobey his orders and leave Privet Drive, let alone go all the way to London and then on to Gringotts. It had troubled him greatly that Harry had known to claim his Lordships. It had been a struggle to keep Black quiet, insisting that it would be too disruptive to Harry’s studies and that his O.W.L grades were low enough as it was, without adding in the responsibilities of the Potter Lordship.

He had only managed to silence Black by promising him that he could tell Harry on his seventeenth birthday, when he was legally a man in the wizarding world, and they’d then let him decide for himself if he wanted to claim his Lordship in his seventh year of Hogwarts or leave it in his care. Naturally he would have spun it in such a way that he’d have had a strong chance of getting Harry to leave the Lordship in his care, though he would have preferred that Harry had not known of the Lordship at all. But it had been such a relief when Black had died without telling the boy about the Lordship, he had breathed much easier.

Yet something had happened this summer, something had changed and Harry had chosen to disobey him and he had gone to Diagon Alley, someone there had told him about his rightful Lordship and he had gone to Gringotts and he had claimed it. He had claimed both of the Lordships that he had been entitled to seeing as he was the rightful Black Heir a well now that Sirius was dead and from one day to the next, he had lost both of the seats he’d had on the Wizengamot and his position as the Chief Warlock, a position of esteemed power and influence.

He’d tried to do some damage control by offering up a selection of wizards who he believed were ‘suitable’ for the position of Chief Warlock. Of those people, Albert Runcorn, the new Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation after the death of Bartemius Crouch senior almost two years ago now, had not been one of them. One move from the boy, and everything had changed and had come tumbling down around him and his carefully laid out path had taken a right angle from the direction he had wanted it to go in.

He had lost more than he cared to count when Harry had claimed both of his Lordships, he now had very little influence within the Ministry and with Lucius Malfoy giving more and more subtle advice to the Minister Fudge, whispering into his ear, he was getting less and less owls asking for his opinion or advice on things that he’d much rathered have had a say in.

His grip on the Ministry was weakening and he had to find a way to change that, to reaffirm his hold on the Ministry and get some power back from it. The Potter and the Black Lordships had been perfect, becoming the Chief Warlock was even more perfect, but now that was all gone and there was nothing that he could do to get it back…unless the boy died, yet he needed the boy to die at the right moment. It had to be Voldemort who delivered the killing curse to destroy the Horcrux; Harry would not survive a second direct curse.

The first time had been a fluke…he had told the boy that love had saved him, and really it had in a way, but not because his Mother had sacrificed herself for him, but because Voldemort had killed her at all. The Dark Lord’s soul had splintered with the death of James Potter and the unstable, fragile fragment had broken free without permission, or the use of the dark magic which would have seen it sealed in an inanimate object, with the death of Lily Potter and it had latched onto the nearest living thing that wasn’t its original host…Harry. So that when Voldemort had then turned his wand on the year old boy, the Horcrux had lashed back at its former home and though Harry had vanquished the Dark Lord that night with the help of the magical backlash that the new soul fragment had given him, he had also kept him anchored to life, no matter how flimsily, by harbouring that piece of soul within his own body.

A second curse from its host now would destroy the Horcrux and would more than likely kill Harry in the process too. It had only been strong enough to rebound the killing curse the first time because of the overwhelming magic it had taken for the soul fragment to fuse to the baby Harry after it had broken free of its host. It was a once in a millennia occurrence and the timing had fallen perfectly for Harry, as Voldemort had cast the killing curse just as the soul fragment was establishing itself in his body. It was unlikely to ever happen again.

From what he had read there was a slim chance of Harry’s survival if he willingly offered himself, and the Horcrux, up as a sacrifice, but if he twisted that a little and he never told the boy of that little possibility, then the boy would die and he could take over the Lordships once again. It would be a struggle to win back the position of Chief Warlock, but it was all for the greater good in the end.

He needed to have some clout in the Ministry to ensure that it was being governed properly. It just wouldn’t do to have the Pureblood Lords taking over and passing _unfavourable_ and unsavoury laws without his veto. He dreaded to think what those Lords were plotting and what laws they were passing in his absence and Albert Runcorn would not oppose those Lords or their proclamations as he had done when he was the Chief Warlock.

It would take him an age to correct and reverse all of the new laws they were going to be passing in his absence. He needed to find a way to get himself back onto the Wizengamot, or at the very least he needed someone on the Wizengamot that he could trust to relay all the laws being passed and to tell him who was voting for what. Such a thing was illegal, so he needed to pick carefully, but he hoped that that person could still be Harry. He hoped that he could still influence the boy and then he could get his votes heard by going through Harry, but he had to get back onto the Wizengamot by any means necessary. He needed to have the laws he wanted passed and those he didn’t want passed heavily opposed. He dreaded to think what would happen to the wizarding world that he had patiently moulded over the last eighty years otherwise.

It would take longer than he was prepared to wait, but this couldn’t be rushed. If this was not planned thoroughly, then things could go very wrong and if someone other than Voldemort hit Harry with the killing curse, then everything would be ruined and the Horcrux would survive to latch onto another host and Voldemort would live on. It had to be Voldemort; otherwise he would have dispatched the boy himself and then gone after Voldemort himself.

No, it had to be planned with precision. It had to be done properly and this had to go smoothly, otherwise years’ worth of planning and preparation to get rid of Voldemort for good would go down the drain and without Harry to fulfil the prophecy, the world would fall to Voldemort and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

Lucius Malfoy had thrown a huge spanner into the works by adopting Harry as his own son, he had tried to speak to Harry recently, but the boy hadn’t spoken to him until Lucius had given his permission. Harry had changed so much in a short amount of time and he was now under Lucius’ thumb, completely it seemed from his interaction with him, but he’d have to test the boy at school to see how far Lucius’ influence on him ran.

Harry had ignored all of his letters and those of almost everyone else that had written to him. He’d sent a small letter to Ron Weasley and a longer, more detailed letter to Hermione Granger, but the only difference between the two was that the letter to Miss Granger contained a list of what books the boy was reading, books which he had rathered the boy had never known existed, let alone read. But the boy talked of how excited he was to be learning so much and he had informed the girl that he had picked up Ancient Runes and Arithmancy as electives for this year. That had come as a huge shock to him as well, even more so when Harry had actually scraped two A’s in the subjects at the Ministry in just five weeks, subjects that he had never taken or shown even the slightest bit of interest in before. He suspected foul play on Lucius’ part, but he had no proof to throw at him.

He could only hope now that he could do some damage limitation and get Harry back to his way of thinking. Perhaps if he told the boy that it had been Sirius who hadn’t wanted him to know of his Lordships, after all, he was dead now and couldn’t contradict him and Harry would be appeased that it had been Sirius’ intervention that had prevented him from knowing of his birth right. That might work….yet he could only hold on to mere hope that it would work at this point, after all Harry had been living with Lucius Malfoy for six weeks now and there was no telling what the man had done to the boy or what thoughts he had supplanted into Harry’s impressionable, young mind.

He needed to work on splitting Harry away from the Malfoys, which was proving difficult, but Harry would be at Hogwarts now for the year, so he had some time to work on that, until then though, he had one more week to wait until Harry came back to Hogwarts and then he could assess the damage that had been done to poor Harry and he could plan and act accordingly.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was sat on the scarlet steam train, the Hogwarts Express, in a compartment that was empty except for him and Draco. He was currently quilling an expressive letter to Rabastan. It was already nearing two foot in length and it was only growing longer. He was writing it in several different coloured inks, a new colour for each new paragraph, because he believed that it would help Rabastan keep track of lengthy letters and allow him to easily know what he had already read and what he hadn’t.

 

“I have a pot of silver ink if you need to use it.” Draco offered, even as his pointy nose was still buried in his book. He was looking for questions to test Harry with on Arithmancy.

 

“That would be helpful, thank you, brother.” Harry said with a grin, knowing that Draco hated being reminded that he and Harry were now legal brothers from Harry himself, as ridiculous as that seemed.

 

“Do not call me that or I’ll curse you.”

 

“You can try. I will remind you that I am the top of our year group in Defence Against the Dark Arts and that I scored the highest ‘Outstanding’ grade that the examiners have given out for over seventy years.” Harry said with a smirk.

 

Lucius had written to the board of examiners and he had demanded a breakdown of all of Harry’s grades and his examination marks. He was incredibly pleased and proud of his achievement in Defence Against the Dark Arts…it was just everything else that he wasn’t too thrilled about.

 

“Just hurry up and finish your love letter. You’ve been writing it for a week and a half; your betrothed is going to be going out of his mind with worry.”

 

“Our contract states that we have to send so many letters and they have to be a certain collective length. I’ve been so busy over the last three weeks that my letters have been a little short and clipped, so I wanted to take the time to pour out everything into this one letter, because I’m sure that once we get to school I’ll be swallowed back up by school work and learning. Not to mention homework and my duties to the Wizengamot and I need to review some more of the neglected Black family accounts. Eighteen huge, thick folders and I have to personally read them through and change everything I don’t like, which is a lot.”

 

“I noticed that you removed the disownment on Sirius, Alphard and Andromeda.” Draco stated in false nonchalance, trying to hide his interest and curiosity.

 

“You’ve been itching to question that for the last week, haven’t you?” Harry chuckled. “Yes, I welcomed them back into the Black fold. I don’t think Sirius’ behaviour was warranted a disownment, so I reversed that decision and I really don’t think giving money to your nephew is grounds to be disowned, so I reversed that decision as well and I don’t think marrying a Muggle is grounds for disownment either. Andromeda is a woman, she could never have had the title of Lord Black and with only the one daughter, she is unlikely to ever produce a son. Besides, I am Lord Black now and I fully expect to produce several sons and daughters to carry on all three lines that I’m connected to, so I don’t see her or her choice of Husband as a threat to the Black family.”

 

“Every man fully expects to have a son, sometimes it doesn’t work out that way.”

 

Harry chuckled. “Yes, I understand that. But I’m prepared to keep trying and having children until I am completely incapable of having any more children. With that amount of children planned, at least one of them has to be a boy.”

 

“But you need at least three.”

 

“Ah, no. You see I thought that too, but then I started thinking harder about it. I am Lord Potter-Black. I am the Heir to two houses. If I do by some misfortune only have the one son and a gaggle of girls, then my lone son will be named as the Heir to all three houses, the Potter, the Black and the Lestrange lines and then Rabastan and I will set him up with a suitable match and then he can name his sons as separate Heirs…of course this is all just a hypothetical situation in the event that I only produce the one son in my lifetime.”

 

Draco shook his head. “I never would have believed that there was a mind capable of thinking such analytical things inside your head.”

 

Harry laughed. “I’ve always been good at problem solving. I have a surprisingly quick mind, but only if it’s actually applied to the task, before it was only really fully engaged when my life or others’ lives were in danger. But if I don’t push myself and have the drive and desire to do something, then it goes in one ear and out the other.”

 

“Then I suggest you apply yourself one hundred percent this year, otherwise Father will be most displeased and I’ll smirk at you internally as you’re unable to sit on your chair comfortably.”

 

Harry laughed harder. “I hate that he has the house elves take the pads from the chairs as an added punishment. Those chairs are hard and horrible without a cushion at the best of times, it’s only worse when you have a sore bum.”

 

They didn’t mention any more about their home life as the compartment door was pulled open only a few moments later and Draco’s Slytherin friends came in and arranged themselves around the compartment as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened and that Harry had always been there amongst them. Harry deduced that their parents had told them that he was a Pureblooded Lord of two old, powerful houses and that they weren’t to do anything to him to jeopardise their delicate politics with him. That or they were too composed and refined to say anything after they’d heard of him being adopted into the Malfoy family.

Many of the Lords were cosying up to him now, likely aware of his strengthening position with the firm betrothal contract between him and the, now Heir, of the Lestrange line. Not that that was public knowledge of course, but it was travelling through certain Pureblood circles.

He’d learnt that as Rabastan was a wanted criminal, he couldn’t actually take up the mantel of Lord Lestrange when his Grandfather died, so if Xerxes died then Harry would take Rabastan’s seat on the Wizengamot as well, as his Husband’s bonded spouse. But what went on in the Wizengamot halls, stayed there, so only the members inside the Wizengamot would know of him being Lord Lestrange and as they were unable to tell anyone outside of the Wizengamot without facing life in Azkaban, he would be safe from any backlash concerning his choice of Husband.

Though Harry got the feeling that before Xerxes even came close to dying of old age, Rabastan would be able to walk down the streets and live his life normally without fear of being attacked by members of the general public or the Ministry.

He _had_ been living with the Malfoy family after all and sometimes the dinner topics were a little more than just Lucius’ day in work or Narcissa’s gossip from afternoon tea with the other Pureblooded Ladies. He didn’t know what to think about that, but he always held his tongue. He got the feeling that he was being tested and that he was being ‘scoped out’ so to say. But he’d learnt now that before he could do or say anything, then he needed all of the information and all of the facts, his time at the Wizengamot had taught him that, so he waited, silently, he was always listening and retaining the information that was said and though he knew that the Malfoys were biased, so too had been those around him before. He needed to take each side with a pinch of salt.

He did not like Voldemort’s methods, definitely not, they were far too violent, far too discriminate and downright evil…but what Dumbledore had done to him, ruining his childhood as he had, planning to steal everything from him, including his bank vaults, his Lordships, his Pureblood heritage, all for himself. It hit closer to home, it made him feel sick. All he wanted was to live, he wanted his own life and he was going to carve one for himself, no matter what it took him to do so and he didn’t care how many bridges he needed to burn for it to happen or how many new bridges he needed to build, he would have his own life, no matter who he needed to ally himself with in order to achieve it.

He swallowed hard and took in a deep breath, keeping his composure. He’d known that this was a high possibility, siding with Voldemort of all people, but in his mind, what Dumbledore had done to him was worse than anything else he’d ever known…it wasn’t just keeping his Lordships from him, it was keeping a part of his Father from him and he couldn’t forgive that, he couldn’t ever forgive someone keeping a part of his parents from him and especially not something that his Father had not only wanted him to have, but had actively taken steps to make it possible for him to have.

Yet it wasn’t just the Lordships either, it was the theft of his birth right, something which he had found out was a very serious offence, it was cases like his that had seen the need for Lucius Malfoy to found the WPM, the Wizardry Protection Movement, in the first place. To help wizards like him who were completely clueless and being lead around in the dark over their birth rights. Everyone had assumed that he’d known about his Lordships, about his heritage and his status and that he had knowingly and happily left them in the hands of Dumbledore, which is why no one had ever told him or questioned him over it…the man’s manipulations truly knew no bounds and he couldn’t forgive that either.

But it didn’t even stop there. Lucius had told him that as his magical guardian, Dumbledore had been responsible for everything in his life, from his upbringing, to his education, to the very subjects that he took in school.

He’d been told that he’d been put with Muggles for the simple reason that if he’d been left with a witch or wizard, then they would have automatically become his magical guardian as well as his custodian guardian. Harry felt sick when he thought of Sirius…who had been innocent all along and should have been his guardian throughout his life. Instead he’d had Dumbledore, who hadn’t told him anything, who had shut him out and kept him ignorant and in the dark while leaving him to rot with the Dursleys while he enjoyed all the benefits of his birth right.

Well not any more. Lucius was his adoptive Father and his magical guardian now, Lucius had changed him and was moulding him for the better. He’d pushed him so hard that Harry had feared that he’d fall and never get back up again, but so precise and guiding was Lucius’ instructions, Harry was always caught by firm hands and set back on his feet before he could hit the floor. He had learnt so much that if he took a moment to think about it all, his head spun around until he was dizzy.

But Lucius had taken up his role as his guardian with a fierceness that Harry wouldn’t ever have expected. He’d always thought that Draco was spoiled and allowed to get away with murder, but it just wasn’t true. Though Draco had mostly everything he wanted, he got more than most of the kids at Hogwarts did, he got a sweet parcel from Narcissa every month, he sent owls to both of his parents every other day, he had everything and he was spoilt to an extent, but Lucius was a firm and strict Father and Harry had seen, and felt, for himself that he was not above punishing either of them if they needed it. Draco was spoilt, but he wasn’t ruined like Dudley had been.

This sort of action and consequence routine was completely alien to Harry, who with the Dursleys had been smacked about and punished on a whim, starved and locked away in a cupboard and then in his tiny bedroom that he couldn’t get out of…imprisoned in what was supposed to be his own home.

He admitted, at least to himself, that he’d pushed the Malfoys a little at the beginning, testing to see if there was anything that he could get away with, if the punishment would always be the same of he behaved in different ways. He hadn’t been able to help himself as he’d thrown bitch fits and had emotional outbursts and displayed pure, shameful behaviour, but always the punishment fit the crime and he’d never been beaten or even hit with anything that wasn’t a few slaps of the hand or a simple charm that was annoying more than it was painful. He’d never been denied food or told he wasn’t allowed to have breakfast or dinner, he’d never been locked up or even told to stay in his room. He wasn’t punished any harder than Draco himself was, they were treated like equals and that was something that Harry had never known before and he found himself craving it. It was so strange that he even worried that something might be wrong with himself.

Yet it was this mind-set that made him want to prove himself even more, he wanted to please Lucius and Narcissa, he wanted to impress them and make them proud of him, as he’d done the same at the Dursleys when he was younger, before he’d come to the realisation that nothing he would ever do would be good enough for them. They were truly despicable people, he realised that when he’d seen pride in Lucius’ eyes for the very first time, when he’d seen for himself those thin lips curl slightly into a smile. If Lucius Malfoy of all people could feel pride at the things he did and what he’d achieved, then why couldn’t his own blood relatives? The people that Dumbledore had happily left him with time and time again, despite Harry begging him not to go back and pleading with him, telling him what they were like, but he was always forced back…always.

 

“It seems that you had a more interesting summer than most of us, Draco.”

 

Harry looked up to see Pansy sat next to Draco, one hand on his inner thigh, her fingers brushing incredibly close to his groin, while she looked coyly up at the blond through her lashes.

 

“It was eventful.” Draco replied simply, but Harry frowned slightly when he heard how throaty Draco’s voice had gone. Was he ill?

 

Blaise Zabini laughed happily and Draco scowled at him.

 

“You still have absolutely no self-control, do you? I heard that the three of you were punished severely over the summer, how can you just start all over again this year?”

 

Harry blinked and he looked from Draco, to Pansy and a flushed Daphne, to Pansy’s hand on Draco’s leg and he connected the dots.

 

“Father would be most displeased.” Harry said calmly, even as he carried on writing his letter to Rabastan, his heart beating a mile a minute at what he was actually seeing with his own eyes…they were doing _that_ right there in front of him!

 

“You would tell him too, wouldn’t you?” Draco growled.

 

Harry sent him a wide grin. “If only to see you be punished, yes. I’d tell him in a heartbeat because you’d do the same to me if the situation was reversed.”

 

Draco sighed and pushed Pansy’s hand off of his thigh and shifted closer to the window, away from her. The pug faced girl stared at the distance between her and Draco and grit her teeth.

 

“I lost my betrothal match because of what we did together, we almost created a baby together, Draco. Why are you behaving like this? You promised me marriage when we were in bed together.”

 

Harry couldn’t control the urge to grimace at the thought of Draco lying, all sweaty and naked, in a bed with Pansy and promising her marriage. He felt queasy at the very thought and he almost gagged. Draco noticed and scowled at him furiously. Harry turned to look out of the window and regained his composure.

 

“You know that was only said in the heat of the moment and your pregnancy test came back negative and we were never so lax again.” Draco replied calmly. “It was nothing to do with me that you lost your contract, it was your actions that lost you your betrothal, not mine. I still have my contract and I will honour it.”

 

“I still have mine, too.” Daphne said, she was smirking slightly, goading the unfortunate girl.

 

“Only because Nott is too much of an ingrate to get rid of you.” Pansy sneered at the other girl.

 

“He’s completely in love with her beauty.” Blaise scoffed. “Even though both Draco and I have had Daphne in our beds and he knows that, he still wants you for some reason.”

 

“His Father want’s the Greengrass fortune, you mean.” Draco replied scathingly.

 

Harry was appalled that these people were speaking like this to one another when they were supposed to be friends. He wouldn’t dream of talking like this to Ron or Hermione. This picking and biting at one another was alien to him and he would never have dared treat his friends so appallingly and he wouldn’t expect anyone to put up with him if he did act like this. He couldn’t understand it, how did they remain friends when they spoke like this and acted as they did towards one another?

 

“You’ll be in need of a betrothal contract too, won’t you, Potter?” Zabini asked him and Harry turned to look at him quizzically. He had expected them to just ignore him, not actively talk to him.

 

“Who in their right mind would want him?” Pansy scoffed before Harry could answer.

 

“He might be your only option left. It’s him, old Lucan Selwyn or Amycus Carrow. That is unless you want to go and live in some other country where you don’t know the language or the culture with a foreign wizard that you can’t understand and will never get on with.” Daphne taunted the pug faced girl, getting her own back for the earlier, scathing comment.

 

Pansy went white and she swallowed. “I’ll write to my Father and have him petition Lord Malfoy at his convenience then.”

 

“Such a thing would be useless.” Harry said calmly.

 

“It is up to Lord Malfoy to accept a suitable contract, not you.” Pansy told him scathingly.

 

“I know that, but you see I already have a betrothal set up for me and it actually seems more like we have the possibility of marriage after I graduate, maybe even sooner than that if my Father is amicable. We have already talked about children and the ceremony.”

 

“You never told me that you were actually considering a marriage.” Draco said, completely affronted.

 

“It has been a busy week, I apologise for not telling you sooner, but it is a recent development. We found ourselves talking about the décor for our bonding ceremony at our last meeting and it took the both of us almost an hour to realise that we were actually planning our future ceremony.”

 

“Father will be thrilled, you need to tell him.”

 

Harry nodded. “I will, as soon as I finish this letter.”

 

“Are you writing to your betrothed? That is a massive letter.” Zabini told him. “Is it true that you’re betrothed to Thorfinn Rowle? I had heard that your prerequisites were more towards the male gender and Rowle is known for liking both genders.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rowle is a member of the Pureblood directory, no one on that list is going to be interested in Potter.” Pansy told Blaise.

 

“You’re only saying that to make yourself feel better because the Rowle family turned you down.” Daphne bitched.

 

“No, it isn’t him.” Harry replied distractedly before the girls could start spitting and biting at one another again as he quilled another paragraph, using Draco’s silver ink. “I’m betrothed to Rabastan Lestrange.”

 

Harry took huge pleasure in seeing their faces as he dropped that bomb shell on them, as the Lestranges were definitely a family in the Pureblood directory and they literally were the very last family anyone would have ever expected him to be linked to. It’s what made it utterly perfect really, because no one would believe it until given irrefutable proof.

 

“He _wants_ to marry you?”

 

“Of course, he’s very happy with our match. As is his brother and Grandfather…his Father is a poisonous, petty bastard, though.”

 

“You shouldn’t speak ill of your betrothed’s family.” Daphne warned him “I take it that you are a gene carrier?”

 

Harry nodded again. “I am and I don’t speak ill of Rabastan’s family, only his Father and we’re both in agreement that he has no right to call himself a Lestrange. He abandoned his own sons after all.”

 

“I can’t believe that the Lestranges wanted _you_ of all people. They really must be desperate.”

 

“I will warn you that if _you_ speak ill of my betrothed’s family like that again, I will curse you.”

 

“As will I.” Draco countered. “If you speak ill of my brother, then you speak ill of me. If you insult him, then you insult the entire Malfoy family and I won’t stand for it.”

 

Pansy looked at a loss as she looked between Harry and Draco and then the letter that Harry was still writing, he’d moved on to purple ink. He’d stoppered the silver ink bottle and handed it back to Draco.

 

“Why are you writing in different inks? Such gaudy colours too.” She sneered instead. It was like she needed something, anything, to sneer at in order to make herself feel bigger and better. It was pathetic to Harry.

 

“If I want to test out different coloured inks, why shouldn’t I?” Harry asked.

 

“Rabastan Lestrange definitely will not like receiving a letter set out like _that_.”

 

“You talk as if you’ve actually ever seen or spoken to him.” Harry remarked. “He enjoys getting letters from me, no matter what form they’re in or what colour ink I use. I could send him a singing dwarf to relay my message and he’d still enjoy it and he’d reply as well. Do not talk of my betrothed as if you know him or have even met him before.”

 

Pansy suffered her humiliation for only several seconds before the compartment door was opened and Harry was looking at Ron and Hermione. He smiled at them widely, excited to see them again after so long.

 

“How was your summer?” He asked them. “You won’t believe how much I’ve learnt this summer, it’s been amazing! I have so much to tell you!”

 

“How can you say that after everything that’s happened?” Ron burst out.

 

“Excuse me? I don’t seem to understand what the problem is.”

 

“Merlin, you even talk differently!”

 

“Of course I do, I’ve been educated in elocution to help me with my role as Lord Potter-Black in the Wizengamot. Don’t fault me for that when I’m helping to make a difference to the world we live in.”

 

“Professor Dumbledore was making a difference!” Hermione told him angrily.

 

“He stole my birth right from me. He was using seats on the Wizengamot that were rightfully mine and I had no idea about it. He stole my rights from me and he’s lucky that he isn’t facing trial and Azkaban prison because of it.”

 

“He said…he said…”

 

“I bet that there is a lot that he’s said and told you about everything that’s happened, but until you hear both sides, until you hear _my_ side of things, then you have no hope of making an informed decision. If you only take one side as the truth without listening to the other, then you’re only being purposefully ignorant.”

 

“Seven weeks you’ve spent with the Malfoys and look at you!” Ron spat.

 

Harry looked down at his new, pitch black robes trimmed with silver that had matching sterling silver fastenings that he’d had tailored for him at Twilfitt and Tattings. The crest was still the red and gold Gryffindor lion, as was the tie done perfectly at his throat, but Harry thought that he looked rather good.

 

“He looks perfectly fine to me.” Draco complimented. “Unlike you, Weasley. How many of your brothers wore that robe before you?”

 

Ron’s ears went red and Harry sighed. This was not going at all how he’d hoped. He’d hoped that his friends would understand, that they’d be righteously angry on his behalf when he told them what Dumbledore had done to him…he’d forgotten that they’d been following his orders too. That Dumbledore had told them not to send owls to him and they hadn’t, then suddenly, as soon as he was in Malfoy manor, he was getting at least a letter every day from them both, most likely on Dumbledore’s orders too. That thought upset him, he loved them, they were his friends, his first two human friends in his life and he didn’t want to let them go. It was hurting him. The way that they were looking at him was hurting him.

 

“What has this got to do with you, ferret?”

 

“Do not insult my brother in such a way.” Harry demanded angrily. “I still want to be friends with you both, but I will not let you speak to Draco in that way.”

 

“Why would anyone want to be your friend now?!” Ron exploded. “You’ve made your choice, you’ve picked them over us!”

 

“I haven’t chosen anyone over anybody else! It is you who is breaking off this friendship. I still want to remain friends, I just won’t stand idly by and allow you to offer insult to my brother and to my family!”

 

“They’re not your family, Harry. You’re the son of James and Lily Potter, not the Malfoys.” Hermione told him quietly.

 

Harry sighed raggedly in frustration. He didn’t understand why everyone kept saying that to him. “Yes, I am. I will always be their son, as Sirius will always be my Godfather, but they’re all dead, Hermione. They’re all gone and I have no one left to be my family. Yet why does that mean that I can’t have another family? A family willing to adopt me and take me in and care for me? Why can't I have that too just because my parents happen to be dead? Why does them being dead mean that I can’t have a loving family? They’d want me to be happy and I am.”

 

“You had your Aunt and Uncle….”

 

“You know what those people did to me!” Harry exploded suddenly, jumping to his feet and staring up at them furiously. “You saw the marks on my body; you knew what they did to me during the summers. How dare you stand there and say that I had them to love me and care for me when you knew that they never did!”

 

“It was only for a few weeks, then you came to mine for the summer.” Ron tried to tell him.

 

“You say that as if it’s alright. Oh, you only have to put up with being beaten and starved for a few weeks, you can handle that, it’s alright. It’s not!” Harry shouted. “It’s not alright, it has never been alright! How dare you try to diminish what they did to me, how dare you make light of it and say that it was only for a few weeks when you knew damn well that Dumbledore was going to keep me there all summer! It doesn’t matter if it was for only one day, I never wanted to go back there and I’d see those people dead for what they did to me!”

 

Harry was panting like a wounded rhino when he finished and his ears were ringing from his own shouts. He could feel his hammering heart in his throat and the blood rushing through his veins as he glared at the two people that he had trusted to always stand by his side. The two people who had just told him that he wasn’t worthy of a loving home and had told him that they didn’t want to be friends with him anymore just because he’d been adopted into a family that didn’t treat him like a slave and a punching bag.

 

“If you don’t leave now, I’ll curse you until your own Mothers can’t recognise your faces.” Draco promised coldly.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Go. Now.” He said in splintered fragments as he tried to regain his composure and bottle up all that cold, icy anger that had flared so quickly and so easily within him with the merest provocation.

 

“You three, leave too.” Draco said to Daphne, Pansy and Blaise a few moments later, after the compartment door had been slammed shut.

 

They didn’t argue, they just got up and left, closing the door behind them again. Harry didn’t see if they went the same way as Ron and Hermione or not, he didn’t care right at that moment.

 

“Beaten and starved?” Draco questioned him immediately once the compartment door was closed again and they were alone. “Something that you forgot to mention to us, Potter?”

 

Harry averted his gaze, looking out of the window as he chewed on his lip. Draco moved to sit next to him and he physically turned Harry to face him.

 

“Do not make me tell Father that you’re keeping secrets, because he will get it out of you and it’ll be better for you if you just tell me now, so that I can inform Father and he can act accordingly rather than having him get the information from you himself. Now tell me, what did those filthy Muggles do to you?”

 

Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe I blurted it out like that, in front of so many people too, I was just so angry, so very angry and I couldn’t control it.”

 

“What did they do?” Draco demanded, not letting Harry change the subject or avoid it.

 

Harry sighed. “I was left on their doorstep the night my parents were killed.”

 

“You were left on a doorstep?!” Draco said aghast. “A year old baby on a doorstep where anyone could snatch you! Merlin, a passing foxcould have _mauled_ you to death!”

 

Harry nodded. “Allegedly my Aunt found me when she opened the front door to put out empty milk bottles.”

 

“You were left there _all_ _night_?!”

 

“As far as I know. But from then on…my life was a sort of painful existence. It’s all that I can remember, Draco. Everyone assumes that because I’m the Boy-Who-Lived, something I didn’t even know about until I was eleven, when I found out about magic for the first time I might add, that I was treated like some sort of prince, but I wasn’t. They hated me, because they hated magic. My Aunt was jealous that my Mother had magic and she didn’t, my Uncle hated anything that was out of the ordinary, he even hated dreams where things were acting out of the ordinary and as I had magic and I did have accidents over the years…he hated me too.”

 

“So he beat and starved you?”

 

Harry bit his lip and nodded. “He said that he could stamp the magic out of me and then when that failed, he tried to keep me from going to Hogwarts, saying that he wouldn’t pay for me to go, but I found out then that I had my own trust vault and that my full tuition had been paid for upon my birth. But coming to Hogwarts, it made everything worse. He got more deranged, more violent and instead of just missed meals here or there, he started leaving me for days without anything to eat. He even put bars over my window and locked me in a room that’s smaller than the house elf rooms at the manor and I’d be in there for days at a time without being let out and then I’d only be allowed out for half an hour or so and then I’d be locked back up again.”

 

Draco looked grey when Harry finally got the courage to look at him and he seemed completely unnerved.

 

“You suffered through that all this time and you said nothing?”

 

“As I shouted at Ron and Hermione, I begged Dumbledore not to make me go back…I actually begged him Draco. I told him that I’d go anywhere else, but he always refused and sent me back to them. I told him about it and he did nothing, so I never told anyone again. Ron and Hermione knew, Ron and his brothers actually ripped the bars off of my window to get me out in my second year and they told their Mother that I was being starved and she didn’t do anything either. They saw the bruises and scars on my body, but nothing was ever said, nothing was done, so I stopped mentioning it. I sort of…I realised that nothing was ever going to be done and that I’d have to put up with it, it was like I was brainwashed into accepting their treatment of me instead of telling anyone and everyone or even doing something about it myself. I felt like I had to accept it, like it was right for them to treat me like that and I don’t know where that mentality started or where it came from, but it’s only since being with your family that I’ve realised how a real family should be like. Mrs Weasley has always said that she saw me as a son, but she never treated me like one, she treated me like a brainless kid who was incapable of making decisions and…it’s only been your family that has shown me what I’m missing, it’s been you and your parents that have shown me what true families are like and I don’t think I can go back to how it was before, Draco. Now that I’ve had a taste of it, I can’t go back.”

 

“You won’t have to. You’re a Malfoy now, maybe not in name, but you’re family and you’re betrothed and you said that it’s looking more and more like marriage. You have a family now and you’re making your own family. You won’t have to go back to that, you won’t have to go back to them.”

 

Harry’s throat felt tight and he had to swallow hard twice before he could even speak.

 

“I just can’t believe how different everything is. I’ve come to depend on you and your parents so much, having that striped from me now is going to hurt me deeply and…everything is different now. I can see things more clearly, I’m coming to realise my self-worth and I don’t want that taken from me. I hate those people for what they did to me.”

 

“I’m going to owl Father and tell him, he’ll know what to do. Until then, I suggest that you finish that letter to Rabastan, we’re almost at the station.”

 

Harry nodded and went back to the letter, changing from purple ink to navy blue and started telling Rabastan that he needed to see him in person to explain a few things to him. He wondered then if he should tell Rabastan about the Dursleys, but he decided against it, it wasn’t something that he wanted to put in a letter. Instead he told his betrothed that there was something important that he really needed to tell him, something that he needed to know, and he’d explain everything to him the next time that they met up face to face and he left it at that. He signed his name at the bottom of the letter before he took out a new piece of parchment and wrote to Lucius. He couldn’t leave something like this up to Draco to explain, he needed to tell his adoptive Father his own version of events as well as Draco’s version and as Draco sent his letter off, Harry hurriedly tried to catch up, knowing that Draco’s Eagle owl, Saracen, was faster than his Hedwig. He squashed as much as he could into the letter before he took Hedwig from her cage and he handed the hastily scribbled letter to her and gave her feathery head a soft kiss before he sent her off after Saracen. He’d have to wait a little longer to send his letter to Rabastan, he hoped that his betrothed didn’t mind too much.

All of this being dragged up, his beatings and his starvation, it made him wonder if that was why he had made such a strong connection to Rabastan in the first place, a person who was a ruin of a man after fifteen years in Azkaban. A man who was so damaged and skeletal that he didn’t look healthy enough to be alive, and that was after several months of intensive care and consumption of potent potions.

He could relate to Rabastan because he had been beaten and starved for fifteen years as well…he swallowed hard and he vowed to talk about this with his new family and his betrothed and his family, especially as he had been forced to watch Draco send off his Eagle owl with the letter that would inform Lucius Malfoy that his newest, adopted son had been abused and starved as a child. Hedwig wouldn’t be able to out fly Saracen, he was too fast and much bigger and stronger than his little snowy owl, he only hoped that his Father read his letter too before he did anything or tried to claim that he was hiding things from him on purpose and he hoped that Rabastan wouldn’t mind his letter being a little late or that _he_ didn’t think that he was hiding things from him either. This was all such a mess; he just hoped that it was at all salvageable after it was all said and done.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The response for this story has been amazing and seriously intense! I hope that I can continue to keep you all interested and entertained with this story as it progresses.
> 
> I hope all of you have enjoyed this chapter. The fourth will be up soon enough and we have some more of Lucius and Xerxes, Rabastan pops back in and we have the first of the Voldemort scenes. I would like to take this moment to say that I’ve denounced the film version of him and gone back to the, slightly saner, version of him in the books. He was an incredibly intelligent man, completely deluded and maniacal, of course, but he is intelligent and I refuse to think of him as nothing more than an insane, corpse like beast with a powerful wand. There has to be something more to him than that, so to make this plot work, you have to accept that he’s not an insane, rambling idiot with no nose. He is actually capable of rational thought in this fic, just to prepare you for the next chapter. 
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	4. Anger Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> He could relate to Rabastan because he had been beaten and starved for fifteen years as well…he swallowed hard and he vowed to talk about this with his new family and his betrothed and his family, especially as he had been forced to watch Draco send off his Eagle owl with the letter that would inform Lucius Malfoy that his newest, adopted son had been abused and starved as a child. Hedwig wouldn't be able to out fly Saracen, he was too fast and much bigger and stronger than his little snowy owl, he only hoped that his Father read his letter too before he did anything or tried to claim that he was hiding things from him on purpose and he hoped that Rabastan wouldn't mind his letter being a little late or that he didn't think that he was hiding things from him either. This was all such a mess; he just hoped that it was at all salvageable after it was all said and done.

Anger Issues

 

He had been expecting it, of course. But after the events that had happened on the train, Harry had hoped that Dumbledore would have waited until at least the next day before summoning him to his office to demand answers from him, but no. As soon as the welcoming feast had ended and all the students had been dismissed, Professor McGonagall had come right up to him and told him that the Headmaster wanted to see him immediately in his office and that he particularly enjoyed Bertie Botts Beans this term.

It was bad enough that his own house was shunning him, every single one of them, and he’d been forced to sit on his own after being split apart from Draco when they’d arrived at the Great Hall. Some of the other Gryffindors were even glaring at him and he didn’t understand it, he was completely confused. So he’d been adopted, did that actually warrant this amount of vitriol? What business was it of their anyway? Why did they get a say in his life or where he lived when they were nothing to him? He didn’t understand it.

He’d kept his head down and he’d eaten his dinner quietly, trying to ignore the glares and hissed comments going on around him. This wasn’t how he’d imagined the beginning of his sixth year to go, not merely because he’d been adopted, against his knowledge and wishes at first, into the Malfoy family.

He sighed and made his way up to the seventh floor and instead of going with the other Gryffindors and heading to the Tower to get some much needed sleep, he went the opposite way and made his way to the Headmaster’s office for a little chat that he could have really done without, even if he had been expecting it.

 

“Bertie Botts Beans.” He said clinically to the stone gargoyle that guarded the office.

 

He climbed the winding stairs once the gargoyle had moved aside with a heavy heart and he knocked on the door sharply, wishing that he could just go to bed, but he cleared his mind and steeled himself for the talk that was about to be forced on him.

 

“Please enter.”

 

Harry did so and he found himself swept into a tight, crushing hug as soon as he set foot through the door. He laughed when he smelt a familiar scent.

 

“Hello Remus. How have you been?”

 

“I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.”

 

“I kept telling you that there was nothing to worry about.” He said as he pulled back to look at the haggard looking werewolf.

 

“I know you did, but I didn’t know if you were forced to write that under duress or not, I had to see you with my own eyes. The words you were writing, hell even the way you were writing them was so different from what I know of you. I couldn’t trust the letters.”

 

“Oh Remus, if I’d known that then I would have set up a meeting between us at the Leaky Cauldron to assure you that I was fine, all you had to do was ask. Lucius helped me with my calligraphy, so my writing is actually legible now. I don’t smudge the ink all over the parchment with the side of my hand anymore either.” Harry said with a grin.

 

“So you are alright?”

 

“Of course. I’ve never been better. You should see how much I’m learning, Remus! And I’ve found out that I really like Arithmancy and I have a natural affinity for Ancient Runes. It’s brilliant and with what Lucius and Draco have been drilling into me, I’m really excited to start my classes this year.”

 

“Well, you seem perfectly fine.” Remus sounded amazed, but relieved and his stance sort of shrunk as he relaxed. “I’m so happy.”

 

Harry nodded. “James and Lily will always be my Mum and Dad, always, and nothing will ever change that, but I never knew them. I have no memories of them, only of the night they died when a Dementor comes too close to me and that’s not a memory that I like thinking about, it’s too painful. Yet I never had anyone to replace them once they were gone, not until now and Lucius…he’s the only Father that I’ve ever known. No one else has ever been a Father figure to me, and Narcissa is the same, she’s a Mother to me now and I’m so happy. I’ve never had any sort of parental figure before, no one I could call family before. I was just getting used to Sirius and then he was snatched away from me. Lucius is stern, of course, but he cares about me, Remus. He’s teaching me so much and he’s sorting everything out for me, absolutely everything. He’s getting me back on track to be a true grown man and I’m so grateful. He and Narcissa are teaching me things that I actually need to know, things that aren’t taught at Hogwarts and no one else thought to teach me, things like how to magically pay bills, how to run a magical household, how to conduct myself in the Wizengamot, even how to care for a magical newborn. I had no idea how to do any of that, yet it’s only since I was adopted by the Malfoys that I’ve been taught how to do these things.”

 

“I know your relatives are Muggles, but weren’t they showing you how to run a household?” Remus asked bemusedly.

 

Harry snorted harshly. “They taught me how to cook and clean and how to garden and paint a fence and the outside of a house with no ladder. Oh and how to ration food, but that’s about it. They were unfit to care for a child, Remus. What did you think the newspaper article meant with ‘unspecified neglect’? It’s why Lucius adopted me when it came out at Gringotts.” Harry lied.

 

He and Lucius had talked endlessly about him going back to Hogwarts and it was by mutual agreement that they decided not to mention Dumbledore’s neglect as a magical guardian. Lucius wanted Dumbledore to believe that Harry was still ‘on his side’ so to say, just in case something happened to him while he was at the school and Lucius was so far away.

So instead of skirting the issue or changing the topic as he had discussed with Lucius, Harry was twisting the truth slightly and the ‘unspecified neglect’ that the papers had mentioned as the reason behind Lucius adopting him was now the abuse that the Dursleys had put him through seeing as all of that was going to come out too. He could easily make that the reason behind his adoption, despite the fact that Lucius didn’t know about the abuse of the Dursleys yet and it had actually been Dumbledore’s neglect as a magical guardian that had spurned Lucius into adopting him almost two months ago now.

 

“You should have come to speak to me before all of this, Harry.”

 

Harry looked to Dumbledore sat behind his desk for the first time and he crushed the wave of cold, icy rage before he could give himself away.

 

“I had very little choice in the matter. I was taken to the Ministry via a guard without being told what was going on, just that my immediate presence was required at the Ministry and that I was to bring all of my belongings and then, when I arrived, I was immediately handed over to Lucius and I was told that he’d adopted me and that he was now my legal guardian. I admit that I was very unhappy in the beginning, I did pitch a fit, but I was unceremoniously told to shut up, that I couldn’t do anything to change what had happened and to go home with my new custodian. Frankly I don’t care anymore, the Malfoys are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

 

“Do you really mean that?” Remus asked him.

 

Harry nodded. “I do. Everything that has happened in these last seven weeks…everything I’ve learnt, everything I’ve been given and taught, to how I’ve been treated…I don’t ever want to lose that now.”

 

“Have you signed anything for Mister Malfoy, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

 

Harry scrunched up his face. “No, why would he have me sign anything?”

 

“Would you care for a lemon drop?” Dumbledore offered randomly.

 

“No, thank you. I’ve just eaten dinner.”

 

“Are you sure he hasn’t made you sign anything?”

 

Harry frowned. “I’m not sure I like the way that you’re insinuating that I have poor memory, _headmaster_.” Harry stressed. “I haven’t signed anything, only the papers in Gringotts to allow me to claim both of my Lordships early and that was my doing, not my Father’s.”

 

“This really has to stop, my boy.”

 

“What does?” Harry asked, just a slight bite of anger in his tone.

 

“You know that Lucius is not your Father, James Potter is.”

 

“As I said just a moment ago to Remus, James and Lily will always be my parents. Always. They loved me, cared for me, did everything for me and they even died for me. I’m not forgetting what they did and I’m not replacing them, because to me there’s nothing to replace. I don’t remember anything about them, I didn’t even know what they looked like until I looked into the Mirror of Erised in my first year and I never had a picture of them until Hagrid gave me that photo album in my first year. I was eleven before I even knew what they looked like…what else am I supposed to do? If someone offers me a loving, caring home where I can learn to be a strong, independent man, but still have all the love, care and support that I need, I’m going to take it with both hands, because I’ve never had it before and now that I have had it…I crave it. I crave all of it and I won’t be able to let go, I don’t want to let go of that.”

 

“You disappoint me, Harry.”

 

“Why? Because I choose to live in a loving home instead of the abusive hell that I was living in before? Why does that disappoint you? No, in fact, what the hell does it have to do with you in the first place?” Harry demanded. “As my Father said at our last meeting, you are the headmaster of my school, nothing more. So why am I even here? Is this meeting to do with my education? Why are my living arrangements so interesting to you? It shouldn’t matter to the headmaster of a mere school where I’m living!”

 

“You know why.” Dumbledore said quietly. “You know about the prophecy, I told you…”

 

“Fuck that stupid prophecy, it was made by an insane old woman who drinks far too much cooking sherry and suffocates herself with incense in a tiny room stuffed in the top of a tiny tower. I don’t believe a damn word of it!” Harry shouted.

 

A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Watch your language, Harry.” Was all Remus said and Harry breathed in deeply and composed himself.

 

His arse would be red raw for the next week if Lucius had been there to witness his severe loss of control and decorum, and to actually curse like an uncouth Muggle, he’d be standing in the corner with his sore bum for several hours before being forced to sit on a hard, wooden chair.

 

“My opinion still stands; I don’t believe that foolish old woman. She’s a drunk and she gets high on incense fumes. You can’t believe a word that comes out of her mouth. She spent all of my third year predicting that I was going to die a horrible, grisly death, which only got worse when I was going through the Tri-wizard tournament. Do you have any idea how afraid she made me? Predicting my death in class when I had to go out and do those stupid tasks when I never wanted to do it in the first place! No, I don’t believe her.”

 

“You know her true predictions….”

 

“No! I know that you _told_ me that they were true predictions! But I’ve made my own decision…nothing that comes out of that woman’s mouth is real.”

 

“Voldemort needs to be stopped.”

 

“Then why do I have to be the one to do it?!” Harry exploded. “I’m _sixteen_ ; does that mean anything at all to you? You can’t tell a sixteen year old to save the world and to fight in a war that started before I was even _born_! I don’t care if Voldemort killed my parents, it was their choice to fight in the war, not mine and people die in wars! I want nothing to do with it, I’ve made my own choice and my decision is that I won’t fight just because my parents did. I don’t have to be included in this war just because they were. I want a nice, peaceful life and that’s what I’ll get…I’ve seen and suffered too much death in my life already and I’m only sixteen.”

 

“Voldemort will never leave you alone.”

 

“I still don’t care. If he believes that rubbish, that’s his problem. I’m going to live my own life the way I want to, I have a family now and I’ll make my own one day in the future too and I’m happy to do so. I want a nice, ordinary life. I want a partner, I want to get married and I want kids. I want a nice house; I may or may not want a full sized, professional Quidditch pitch for a back garden. I don’t want any pets outside of Hedwig and I’m hoping to get an extended family too, with in-laws, the works. I don’t want to fight, I never have, so I’m making a stand, I won’t fight in this war. So you need to find someone else to be your gullible scapegoat because I refuse to do so anymore. This war is your problem now, not mine.”

 

“There is no one else, you know…”

 

“I only know what you’ve told me.” Harry said through clenched teeth. “There is always someone else! You can’t possibly believe that me, a sixteen year old boy, is capable of murder! That I’m even remotely strong enough to take out that evil bastard. I’m not and I won’t sacrifice my life to that beast just because you tell me to, _headmaster_.”

 

Harry turned smartly on his heel and he left the office, hurrying down the spiral staircase and striding angrily down the corridor. He had to get away or he was going to say something that would alert Dumbledore that he knew that he had been his previous magical guardian…he could not allow that to happen.

He’d done as he’d meant to and he’d declared that he was no longer going to play a part in this war, he didn’t need to blurt out that he knew Dumbledore was a cold, manipulative fucker as well.

He needed to send another letter to Lucius, immediately. He had to tell his Father about everything that had happened and had been spoken about in that office, including his loss of control and his furious cursing. He had to be completely honest, even if it meant a punishment awaited him when he went home for the Christmas holidays. Until then, he needed to keep his head down and he needed to study hard, Lucius would not accept substandard grades for any reason, not even if he spent a month in the hospital wing, as he’d been told by Lucius after Draco had mentioned that Harry spent at least several weeks in the hospital wing a year. He had to work hard, study harder and keep his head down until he was out of school, it would be difficult, but he was sure that he could do it. He just needed to try as hard as he possibly could.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The large, cavernous room was lit by a huge, burning fire in the massive fireplace at the far end of the room and the long, narrow wooden table was filled with seventeen bickering people and Albus Dumbledore wearily stroked his beard with a wrinkled hand.

He was concerned; Harry’s passionate speech had left him nervous, an emotion that he didn’t feel all that often. If the boy refused to fight, the wizarding world would fall to Voldemort…if the boy didn’t die, he would never regain his power at the Ministry.

He’d called an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix and he’d told them all about Harry’s explosive declaration in his office. The people sat at the table were arguing and shouting at one another about how best to deal with the situation.

 

“You have to make the boy see sense, Albus!” Alastor Moody growled out over the rest. “This is a war, not a game. He can’t just stop and pack it up like a set of cards! This has Malfoy written all over it.”

 

“That was my thought also, Alastor. It is obvious that Lucius Malfoy is planning, not to kill Harry as we had originally feared, at least not yet, but his goal now seems to be to convince Harry that he doesn’t need to fight in the war and thus he’ll remove the threat to his Lord. Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort for good. With Harry refusing to fight, Voldemort is free and unopposed to take over the wizarding world. He already has the Wizengamot, Albert Runcorn, a secret Death Eater, was voted in as the new Chief Warlock and with Lucius Malfoy whispering into Fudge’s ear, I’m afraid that the Ministry holds no friends for us at the moment.”

 

“The boy refused to pass his seats back to you?” Elphias Doge asked in outrage.

 

“I’m sure that that is Lucius Malfoy’s doing too. He is using Harry to garner more votes for his proposals, with Harry controlling the Potter and the Black seats; he has two very influential seats and two votes, not just the one. If he is copying Lucius Malfoy and agreeing with every word that he puts forward, then I fear what new laws and regulations are being passed.”

 

“I asked my Uncle about the Wizengamot meetings, Dumbledore. He’s refusing to tell me anything about them; he is disgusted that I, an Auror, would ask him such things when it is illegal to speak of anything to do with the meetings outside of other Wizengamot members.” Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his slow, deep voice.

 

Albus sighed and steepled his hands together and rested his chin on his fingers.

 

“I’m afraid that everything seems to have gone wrong. We’ve lost the Ministry, we’ve lost Harry and as a result, we may lose this war.”

 

“We will not give in!” Moody raged. “The Ministry needs to be cleaned out and the boy needs to be made to see sense!”

 

“And how would you do that?” Remus demanded furiously. “Force him to fight? He’s a sixteen year old boy; he’s not even a legal adult in this world! If he doesn’t want to fight, then I don’t see how we can make him. He’s scared! He’s had enough of having his life put in danger and after what he’s been put through, what teenager wouldn’t? He came into this world only five years ago and since then he has been attacked and hurt and in constant danger, he’s afraid and in pain. He’s had enough and I don’t blame him. We need to find another way.”

 

“There is no other way!” Emmeline Vance burst out. “If there was then we would have used it already. We need the boy.”

 

“He doesn’t want to fight anymore! You can’t just force him to do it when he won’t!”

 

“We’re going to have to, Remus.” Albus said quietly. “We need him to fight Voldemort; we need to get rid of him once and for all. Forcing Harry to fight is for the good of the wizarding world.”

 

“Do not say that to me!” Remus shouted loudly. “Do not sit there and tell me that forcing Harry to fight is for the good of the wizarding world, because unlike everyone else here, I am more concerned about Harry than I am about anything else.”

 

“Do you not want the Dark Lord stopped then?”

 

“Of course I do! As Harry himself does, he said as much in the headmaster’s office! I just don’t want it to be at the expense of Harry’s health or happiness. He doesn’t want to fight, he’s never been a violent boy anyway and forcing him to fight and to kill is going to destroy him. I won’t let you do that to him. If you can’t convince him to fight willingly, then you’re going to have to find a different way. Harry has been through too much as it is, he’s tired of it.”

 

“But what else can we do?” Bill Weasley asked. “We can’t allow Voldemort to win.”

 

“How would you feel about being Lord Weasley?” Dumbledore asked. “Being the Order’s eyes and ears on the Wizengamot.”

 

“I can’t be though; our family gave up the Lordship decades ago.”

 

“If you disown Bilius Weasley, then your feud with the Malfoys will be resolved and if you then announce that you, and you alone, agree with the Pureblood ethics and traditions and denounce all blood traitors, then you’ll be able to claim the Lordship for yourself. With the loss of the Black and the Potter seats and with the Lord Shacklebolt refusing to reveal the topics of the meetings, it is now imperative that we know what the members of the Wizengamot are voting on.”

 

“We have refused for decades to disown one of our ancestors for something so ridiculous.” Arthur said softly. “How can we disown someone from our family just because they loved a Muggle, because they loved children and wanted more of them?”

 

“The circumstances have changed drastically. We need to know what the Purebloods are planning, what laws they’re passing in order to counter them. The Wizengamot are mostly made up of Pureblood Lords and with a Chief Warlock who is now a suspected Death Eater, there is no telling what laws they are passing. We need to know and we need to expose them and their plans to the public. I imagine that they are trying to increase the regulations on Muggleborns, Lucius Malfoy proposed such a thing two years ago and as the Chief Warlock at the time, I shut that dangerous idea down immediately. I fear that without me there and Runcorn the Chief Warlock that things will be very different if the same proposal is brought before the Wizengamot again.”

 

Arthur nodded. “I’ll go to Gringotts tomorrow morning. The Wizengamot would never accept me as Lord Weasley, so I understand the need for it to be Bill, but it’s going to take a long time for this to go through the bank and that’s if the Ministry doesn’t make things difficult.”

 

“As long as it is eventually accepted, that is all we need. There is nothing we can do about the length of the process.” Dumbledore sighed, wishing fervently that there was some way to speed it all up. It would likely be the New Year before he had any insight into the Wizengamot at all and that was at the earliest. “I’m still unsure about what we can do with Harry, but I’ll think of something and I’ll approach him again once it gets further into the school year. Minerva, can I trouble you to keep an extra close eye on him and who he’s talking to, this dependency on the Malfoy family might stretch to young Draco as well.”

 

“Of course, Albus.” The elderly witch agreed immediately.

 

“Then I believe that this meeting is concluded. Good evening to all of you.”

 

Albus swept out of the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, thankful that Harry hadn’t closed it off to them and that he seemed to have not told Lucius Malfoy their whereabouts. Perhaps there was still hope after all and this was just a phase of a teenaged boy rebelling. He didn’t have much time left before he was sure that Tom would strike out and he needed to tell Harry about the Horcruxes, perhaps that would incite the boy to fight.

Even so, everything had gone wrong this summer and Harry had been damaged more than he’d first thought if he was truly serious about not fighting in this war. He hadn’t thought that seven weeks was long enough for Lucius Malfoy to do so much damage to all of his plans and his carefully constructed path, but he had been very wrong and now he was paying the price for it.

He should have tried harder to get Harry away from Lucius Malfoy sooner, but he’d trusted that Harry would protest more than he seemingly had. He had expected him to fight the Malfoys and to stay true to his own parents, but he hadn’t. Harry had just accepted it all easily and he had integrated himself with the Malfoy family so completely that he was even defending them and was now declaring that they were his own family.

A mere seven weeks, not even two months and everything had gone so completely wrong. He had to act fast now and he had to get Harry away from the Malfoys if he had any sort of hope of righting the wrongs that had been done in the last month. His plans had been ruined so completely by Lucius Malfoy that he now had to get rid of the man, and quickly.

This couldn’t continue, he had to get Harry to fight and he had to have the boy take a killing curse from Voldemort. It was the only way to right the wrongs that had been done. It was the only way to shift everything back to how it should be. One way or another, he would make Harry fight and he would put everything back to how it should have been. It was the only way.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was drowning under a sea of homework and essays. It did not help that he was also taking two brand new subjects either as he had to get used to the Professors and their teaching style, which was naturally different to Draco and Lucius’, and he was behind his other classmates in said new subjects too; he was struggling a little with the work load and all of the assignments he was given not only in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, but in his other lessons too as the subject level became harder in preparation for the N.E.W.Ts. The only subject he wasn’t having any problems with was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but then he’d always had an easy time of that, even if nonverbal spells were incredibly difficult and a new subject matter for him.

He had taken to haunting the library as much as Hermione had in their previous school years, though she never seemed to be in there when he was, and he was spending a _lot_ of time in the library lately, so he knew that she wasn’t there nearly as much as she used to be. He hardly cared though, he didn’t have the time to figure out her sudden aversion to the library, though it was likely because he was suddenly spending so much time inside it that she was avoiding coming in here. He hated her for that too, he thought as he once again left his stuff on the table that he was currently occupying and went to find yet another reference text book on the dusty shelves that were far too high in his opinion.

 

“You really are embarrassing.” Said a voice several minutes later, disturbing Harry from his intense perusal of books, trying to find one that would actually help him.

 

Harry grinned and turned from the shelf to see Draco leaning on the table he had vacated and reading through his homework seriously, frowning at whatever he was reading.

 

“Is that any way to speak to me? I’m your younger brother.” Harry teased.

 

Draco scoffed at that and then he grimaced at something he had just read as he took the quill that Harry had left on the table, dipped it into the black ink and crossed out something on his parchment.

 

“This is wrong; I suggest that you read your books more closely.”

 

“I have been, honestly! I’m just so far behind everyone else. Can you help me, please?”

 

“Of course, all you had to do was ask. Now sit down and pay attention as I generously impart my wisdom onto you.”

 

Harry snorted as he walked back to his table and sat down next to Draco, who started telling him where he’d gone wrong, how and what he needed to do to work out the right answer. With this one on one, more concentrated teaching, Harry understood more because he could question Draco as much as he needed to and ask him to go over something if he needed to hear it again and he could have him check over his work for him to make sure that he was handing in the best quality work that he possibly could.

It took hours for him to finish his homework to Draco’s level of expectation, and with the subjects that he understood more in and didn’t need any help with as the only assignments that he had left to do, Draco got his own homework out and finished his own assignments off.

Draco even asked for his help on Defence Against the Dark Arts, which made Harry feel happier that he’d needed help with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. He had thoroughly enjoyed teaching the DA after all, maybe he should have a harder think about his career choices and think seriously about what he wanted to do once he graduated, perhaps being a teacher would suit him better than becoming an Auror.

 

“Draco, what career do you want?” Harry asked with a frown.

 

“Hmm?” Draco hummed as he meticulously finished off his sentence. “I was thinking of starting a career in Potions. I want to be a Potions Master, so I’ll have to Apprentice to a Master for several years first before I can get a proper career and become a potioneer.”

 

Harry smiled. “That seems perfect for you; you’ve always done well with Potions.”

 

“I’ve had to work at it, but I’m proud of where I am. What do you want to do?”

 

Harry sighed. “I wanted to be an Auror, but I’m fed up of all of it. I don’t want to fight anymore or spend my life catching people and throwing them in prison, putting my life in danger day after day. I was thinking that maybe I could be a teacher. Maybe Defence Against the Dark Arts or Care of Magical Creatures.”

 

“You can’t be any worse than Hagrid; you know that absolutely no one is in his classes this year?”

 

Harry grimaced. “I know, Hagrid isn’t speaking to me because of that.”

 

“Good riddance.” Draco huffed. “Now stop procrastinating and help me with this question.”

 

Harry went back to helping Draco and everything was quiet and perfectly fine at their lamp lit table in one of the numerous study areas dotted around the library. It was peaceful, this sort of interaction with another person. He was doing all of his homework on time, he was doing it to a very high standard and not just doing a half arsed job and he was actually enjoying it because he was doing it with someone else. Blaise Zabini even found them and joined in on their little study group and he even got Harry to help him with his Defence homework in exchange for help with Astrology, a subject that he excelled in.

It was a far cry from trying to concentrate in the loud, noisy and busy Gryffindor common room with Hermione berating him every five minutes for not doing his homework sooner and Ron trying to beg off on playing chess or disturbing his thoughts to ask him what he was writing. It was no wonder he’d never truly applied himself to his studies before. He’d never really gotten the opportunity to try before.

 

“Cosying up with your new pals, hmm?” A scathing voice spat at him from behind as he bent over the table he was sat at, measuring the length of his parchment.

 

Harry let go of his homework and turned to look at Ginny, who was furious and puffing up in anger like her Mother and brother both did and he sighed.

 

“It’s not like that, Ginny. As I told Ron and Hermione on the train, I had no choice in my adoption. Lucius filed for my custody at the Ministry after it emerged that I was being neglected at home and his application was accepted. I never even knew what was happening until after it had all been done and finalised. I’m finally being taught all the things that I need to know, my Father is helping me with my Lordships, my Mother is helping to teach me spells to help around the home and how to care for children. Draco is my brother now, why wouldn’t I be doing my homework with him? I haven’t changed all that much, I’m just putting more effort into my school work, why is that such a bad thing?”

 

“They’re Malfoys, Harry! Death Eaters!”

 

“They aren’t.” Harry said calmly.

 

“I saw him at the Ministry! He fought against us! You said yourself that Lucius Malfoy was in the graveyard with you!”

 

“Hmm…I don’t recall ever telling you such a thing.” Harry said consideringly. “But I don’t want to lose any of you over this. So I have a family now, I’m being looked after and cared for, why does everyone see that as such a bad thing when it really isn’t?”

 

“We were your family!”

 

“I was never taught anything by your family, I was never told anything and I never felt cared for like I do now. I won’t apologise for seizing this opportunity while I can.”

 

“Why them?!” Ginny hissed.

 

“Because the Malfoy family were the only ones to offer.” Harry said as calmly as he could while his anger was being roused and stoked so expertly. “No one else thought that I was worthy of a family, no one else even tried, so why not them when they saw how miserable and run down I actually was? I was not in a good place, Ginny. I’m finally being looked after like every human being deserves to be, I’m being taught and brought up properly and I don’t care who it’s with, I’m so very happy now, why can’t you just be happy for me too?”

 

“I just can’t, not with those creatures.”

 

“I saved your miserable life.” Harry reminded her, his anger flaring bright and icy cold, going from a warm simmering to blazing white hot in an instant. “You would be dead right now if it wasn’t for what I did for you!”

 

“Ron came down…”

 

“Do you think an idiot like Ron would have ever figured out what had happened?!” Harry demanded of her. “Do you think that he would even have been able to get into that chamber when it has Parseltongue passwords? No! You would be dead without me, you would have died four years ago if I hadn’t gone down in that damn Chamber to find you and you thank me for that by turning your back on me just for being adopted into a real family. You really need to look in a mirror and have a long, hard look at yourself and ask if the ungrateful bitch looking back at you is the person you really want to be!”

 

Ginny ran off and Harry took in a deep breath and he sat himself down again. He couldn’t even remember standing up.

 

“I lost composure, didn’t I?”

 

“Definitely.” Blaise told him. “But due to the circumstances, I say you handled that really well. Her face when you reminded her that you’d saved her life was worth it.”

 

Harry sighed. “I’m just so angry lately. It flares up and I lash out without thinking, I don’t even have time to think! One minute I’m fine, then the next minute the anger surges and I’m up on my feet, shouting.”

 

“I think you’ve thoroughly burnt your bridges with that load of riffraff though.” Draco said with a haughty sniff. “Now come here and write this paragraph out again, you’ve gotten mixed up with your information yet again. I’m sure you don’t pay attention.”

 

Harry groaned and went back to his homework so that he could rewrite it yet again because Draco wasn’t happy with it. He needed to stop getting so damn angry and he needed to get on top of this mountain of homework. He had been made the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain this year as well and he needed to start holding try outs for new Beaters, a new Chaser and a new Keeper very soon as the first game was on the Saturday of the second week of November.

He was going to be so busy this year, what with his duties to his Quidditch team, his mass of homework and his lessons. Not to mention his self-study to catch up with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, keeping up his correspondence with Rabastan and his duties to the Wizengamot as Lord Potter-Black. His schedule was literally jam packed this year and he couldn’t work out where he was going to find the time for all of it, but he would come up with something. He had to, even if it meant that he had to drop himself from the Quidditch team. He’d hate to do so, he loved Quidditch so very much, but his studies, his betrothal and his duties to the Wizengamot came first. They had to come first, even if it meant that he had to give up the sport that he absolutely loved. He had much more important things to deal with this year, after all.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Lucius Malfoy knelt in front of the high backed chair and allowed his Lord to sift through his memories at his will. He allowed all of the memories of Harry to come to the forefront, as he’d been instructed to do, thinking about the boy’s talents, his strengths, his intelligence and thirst for learning. How he was slowly opening the boy’s eyes and turning him permanently away from Dumbledore, how he had immediately thought to adopt the boy once the opportunity arose so that he could, one way or another, take the boy out of the coming war, including his very real thoughts about how he would dispose of the boy if it was asked of him, at least before he’d gotten to know Harry as a person. He allowed his Lord to see the growing fondness he had for the boy, how he had come to care for Harry, who was so spirited, yet sat silently for hours devouring every book that he gave to him.

He let his Lord see how he had immediately thought to put Harry with a loyal Death Eater once the boy had told him that he believed that he liked men more than he did women and how the Lestrange family had eventually came to his mind as a loyal, suitable family after he had probed a little at Xerxes to hear about the state of Rabastan.

He didn’t hold anything back or try to hide anything from his Lord, who had been pleased with him for his forethought in adopting the boy quickly when the chance had arisen before Dumbledore had had the chance to block this avenue of opportunity. His Lord who had been pleased with Harry taking up his seats on the Wizengamot and being taught to his full potential, and especially with the contract that put Harry with Rabastan Lestrange, one of his most loyal followers.

 

“The boy seems to be progressing well.”

 

Lucius brought up the letters that he’d gotten, first from Draco, and then several hours later the one from Harry and then the second letter from Harry that had arrived with a school owl the next morning. The former had been Harry’s admission of abuse by his Muggle relatives, told to him in the letter by Draco. The second had been Harry’s version of what had happened to him by the disgusting Muggles that he’d lived with and the third had been Harry’s guilty confession that he had used several coarse, vulgar words in front of Dumbledore and that he had lost composure and his temper several times, but ultimately that he had screamed at his Headmaster that he was not going to fight in the war, that he refused to be a part of it and that all he wanted was a life of his own and a family.

 

“The boy is receptive of the idea of a family with Rabastan?” The Dark Lord questioned softly.

 

“I believe that it is correct to say that he adores the ground that Rabastan walks on, my Lord. They are very receptive to one another.”

 

“Is that so, Xerxes? This pleases me.” The Dark Lord hissed, his red eyes gleaming happily at all the new ventures he could delve into with the boy out of the way and kept busy with Rabastan. “Make sure that nothing happens to destroy this bond that they have, I will see them engaged and then married. If I can keep the boy busy and out of my way, then there will be nothing to stop us, my old friends. How are Rodolphus and Rabastan coming along on their recovery plans? I will have need of them in the coming months.”

 

“Well, my Lord. I was initially worried about Rabastan, as I informed you he seemed to be merely going through the motions because he was told to do so, but now, he is throwing himself into his recovery plan and he’s working harder and asking about what else he can do to help himself. I believe that this is fully because of Harry. He wants to get stronger and fitter for Harry. They had no mirrors in Azkaban, they could see what each other looked like, but not what they themselves looked like and I’m sure that coming out of the prison and seeing his own face for the first time horrified him and it made him lose all hope…until Lucius came to me with the proposal for a betrothal between him and Harry. Now, since he’s met Harry and they’ve spent some time together, his lust for life has come back and his hope and his pride, his emotions are coming back and he’s showing more interest in the things and the people around him. It’s all thanks to Harry.”

 

Voldemort nodded his bald head. “This pleases me too. Rabastan is one of my most loyal followers, seeing him and Rodolphus wasted to nothing angered me. The wizards who put them in that prison will pay. I am pleased that he is becoming the man that he once was. Keep him and the boy interacting, they must not be allowed to drift apart and we must break the boy away from Dumbledore once and for all. If he truly doesn’t want to fight again, I will accept that, but I will not allow him to oppose me. I will kill him if he stands in my way.”

 

“I will speak to Harry when I see him at the next possible opportunity, my Lord. I will see what he’s thinking and if he actually meant what he said to that old fool.” Lucius said respectfully.

 

“Dumbledore believes that what he said was true. He called an emergency Order meeting the very same night. He is concerned and afraid. He’s talking about forcing the boy, by any means necessary, to fight in this war, but he fully believes that the boy doesn’t want to and so does the werewolf, Remus Lupin, who was also in the Headmaster’s office when Potter had his outburst.”

 

“Do you believe that the boy will stand by and let my plans commence, Severus?” The Dark Lord asked with a sibilant hiss.

 

“If he is anything like his old self, then no. But by all accounts, from Lucius, Xerxes, Rabastan, Rodolphus and Dumbledore himself, the boy has changed significantly. If he truly has changed so much, then I don’t see any reason why he would intervene with your plans, my Lord. The rift between him and Dumbledore is only growing.”

 

“Look after him in the school.” The Dark Lord ordered. “I will not have that old fool damaging what Lucius and Xerxes have started moulding. If I don’t have to worry about the boy, then my plans can progress that much quicker and that much smoother. This pleases me. Leave me, all of you. I have plans that need to be made.”

 

Lucius stood, bowed respectfully and he left the room immediately. He and his fellow Death Eaters remained silent until they made it outside of the property.

 

“Make sure that you do look after Harry in that school, Severus. He’s my son now and I would see no harm come to him.”

 

“He is to be my grandson-in-law as well; you won’t like what my family will do to you if anything happens to that boy.” Xerxes added. “Rabastan is very fond of him and since he’s been betrothed to Harry, I’ve seen a vast improvement in his behaviour and his mental health has improved as well. That boy is good for my Rabastan. I won’t have anything stand in the way of Rabastan’s recovery.”

 

“I will keep a closer eye on him, but as a Gryffindor, it is harder for me to be around him at all times than if he had been in my house.”

 

“I understand that, but the boy is a true Gryffindor at heart and he wouldn’t consent to being moved, even if there was a way to move him, I’m sure of it. Just do what you can and if there is anything that you see or hear, get in touch with me immediately. I will do what I can as his Father.”

 

“How is he as a son?”

 

“He’s more intelligent than I would have expected. There is a surprisingly quick, focused mind under all of that hair. He’s usually well behaved and he responds well to punishments when he isn’t well behaved. He is surprisingly easy to teach, he picks up things quickly and easily and when he actually applies himself, he can understand things to a depth that I wouldn’t have believed him capable of. You should see a new side to him this year, Severus. I’ve told him that if he doesn’t apply himself one hundred percent then he will be severely punished and he will have all of his privileges stripped from him once he’s home.”

 

“I am surprised to see him with that hair still.”

 

Lucius sighed aggravatedly. “There is nothing to be done for it. I tried to have it cut back respectably, but that never worked as I planned, so I had him use copious amounts of potions on it and still nothing worked…I gave up and told him that as long as he brushed it twice a day that I wouldn’t have him completely shave his head. Not that you could tell that he’s brushed it at all, but I trust him to do as I say.”

 

“Has he taken to instruction well?”

 

“He has taken to it wonderfully well. He needed a parental figure, someone to give him a structured set of rules and guidelines to follow and to give him punishments that are both fair and just to reprimand bad behaviour and someone to be strict enough to stick to them. He has had no direction throughout his life and hearing of how those abhorrent Muggles treated him, I can understand why he craves a known set of rules and a punishment that he knows isn’t going to change daily. I need to speak to him about the letter Draco sent to me, I need to find out how badly he was treated other than his rushed admission of being beaten and starved, I need to break it down into more finery as well, then I’ll make a decision to see if he needs a Mind Healer or not.”

 

“Draco told you that it was that bad?” Severus questioned with surprise.

 

“Draco told me that the boy was beaten and starved since he was a young child. Harry confirmed that he said as much to Draco, but it could be a lot worse from the way the boy is acting about it. Such a thing repulses me.”

 

“As soon as Harry tells you where they live…” Xerxes trailed off, his strong, age lined face was pale and tight with anger. “I’ve come to like that boy and what he’s doing for Rabastan. He’s good for my boy, that he’s been hurt deliberately in such a way…I’d kill those beasts in a heartbeat.”

 

“I think we’re all in agreement for that, Xerxes.” Lucius said. “I would be happy to invite you to pay them a visit once I have their address from Harry.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind a night with them. Several hours under a heavy silencing ward with them at my mercy in revenge for Harry.” Xerxes sighed. “I’m sure it would make Rabastan and Rodolphus happy too, once I’ve told them. Perhaps letting off some steam will do them both some good and aid in their recovery.”

 

Lucius nodded as they reached the property boundaries. “I will contact you once I have spoken to Harry then. Good evening gentlemen.”

 

With that, the three of them Apparated away to their respective houses, leaving the grounds of the heavily warded, heavily guarded, previously abandoned manor house that their Lord was hidden inside.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Xerxes was very confused when he finally found his Grandsons in the mismatched house, only to see Rodolphus comforting a sobbing Rabastan in the front room when he got home. He’d only just told their Lord how well Rabastan was coming on, only to find him in this disgraceful state upon his return.

 

“What in the name of Merlin has happened?” He demanded of his Grandsons.

 

“It’s Harry.” Rodolphus told him.

 

“Is he alright? He hasn’t been injured has he?” He asked quickly.

 

“No, he hasn’t sent Rabastan a letter in three weeks, but an hour ago a letter turned up with Hedwig, one that looked like he’d been writing it for two weeks, but it isn’t finished. Harry cut himself off in mid-sentence, left a cryptic ending about needing to talk to Rabastan face to face and ended it with a rushed signature.”

                                                                                                

“He’s going to break off the betrothal, I know he is!” Rabastan growled in a rough voice that was harsh from his tears. “I’m not what he wants, of course I’m not. I’m ugly and old and decrepit! He’s going to want some young thing that’s handsome and strong, who hasn’t been ruined by years in Azkaban and I’m not regaining my strength quickly enough, I know that. I’ll never be able to regain what Azkaban has taken from me and he sees that too, he doesn’t want to be stuck with the likes of me for the rest of his life.”

 

“I think you have the wrong end of the stick.” Xerxes told his Grandson, easing himself down beside him. “Young Draco sent his Father a letter a week or so ago. Harry unwittingly revealed some rather… _unsavoury_ facts about his childhood and he’s been forced to come out with the truth. If this is about what I think it is, then he sent you that letter in haste before the news could get to you from someone other than himself, so that it doesn’t look like he’s hiding anything from you. He sent a message to Lucius just hours after Draco did and then he must have waited for his owl to come back before sending this letter to you. I assure you though he is not looking to break the contract, in fact, from what Lucius was saying he’s already preparing for a quick engagement, so I suggest that you have a ring fashioned for him ready for when he comes home for the winter holidays.”

 

“What happened to him in his childhood?” Rabastan demanded, becoming the protective man that Azkaban had tried to whittle away and that Harry had rekindled.

 

Xerxes sighed. “I know very little, as does Draco and Lucius I imagine, as Harry wasn’t very forthcoming with details on the train journey, and his letter to Lucius was rushed, but from what he let slip, he was abused, beaten and starved as a young child by those Muggle beasts that he lived with. It’s why he accepted the adoption with the Malfoy family so easily, he’d never known the love and care of a real family before and now he craves it.”

 

“They hurt him?” Rabastan growled. “My betrothed? I’ll kill them. I’ll kill all of them and I’ll make it slow, for all the years that my Harry had to suffer from them! I will find out what they did to him, every last little thing and I’ll make sure that they suffer for every single one of the instances where they hurt or upset him.”

 

“That was the thought of Lucius and I.” Xerxes nodded. “He’s going to talk to Harry, see if he needs a Mind Healer after everything that he’s been through, as he is clinging to the three Malfoys quite tightly despite how little time he’s actually truly known them, and then he’s going to find out from him where those Muggles live and he’s going to invite us to go with him to pay them a little visit. Those pieces of filth will regret every instance that they laid a finger on him or denied him food before the end.”

 

The three of them slipped into contemplative silence and stayed with their own thoughts, thinking about all the painful, horrifying curses that they knew and would use on those Muggles once they found out how very badly they had hurt Harry.

 

“Does our Lord have any news or new missions for us?” Rodolphus asked after several minutes of internal pleasure, thinking of the effects his curses would have on mere Muggles.

 

“No, he asks that you remain on your recovery regimes and that you work on making yourselves healthy and combat ready. He also asks, Rabastan, that you do your all to keep Harry attached to you and that you do nothing to sever the bond between you, he is very pleased at the progress you have made with the boy and he is pleased that you are both getting healthier and fitter. He is content to plan and send out lower level Death Eaters for the assassinations that he needs completed, he is content to wait until you are both better.”

 

“I dislike not being able to help the cause.” Rodolphus said in frustration. “Rabastan has a mission of sorts. He has Harry and he has to work on his betrothal, I have nothing to distract myself with.”

 

“You could always try to get that Wife of yours with child. It wouldn’t hurt to at least try, even if you had to force her.”

 

Rodolphus’ face pinched in disgust at the thought of sleeping with his own Wife.

 

“I wouldn’t put it past her to purposely thwart my reluctant attempts by injuring herself while carrying the baby and then I would have done so for naught. It would be just like her.” He sneered.

 

“I say it often, but your Father is the biggest fool I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.” Xerxes sighed. “If it weren’t for the both of you, I would be happy to call him my biggest mistake. He took too much from that bitch Wife of mine and I was always away on missions for our Lord, so Lyvia got into his head and the sparse time that I spent with him was not enough to combat her potent poison. I’m glad that he never had the chance to do the same to you both, that he left you to me and flounced off to India after the death of your Mother to leave me to raise you both in peace. You two are the sons that I always wanted to have, but all I got was Rhadamanthus.”

 

“You know we see you more as our Father than him.” Rabastan said. “I didn’t even meet him until the year after I graduated Hogwarts and then I was thrown into Azkaban only a few short years afterwards. The one and only time that he actually came and visited was when Rodolphus was fifteen and he only came back to set up his engagement with Bellatrix and I was spending that summer in Brazil with that penfriend I had. I never had enough interaction with him to see him as anything other than a distant relative; he’s a near stranger to me.”

 

“I feel the same way. I was three when he left and I don’t remember that far back. All I can remember of my childhood is you, Grandfather. How happy I was, how happy _we_ were. How you taught us and built us up. You are my Father in my mind, even if it’s not official. That man came back when I was fifteen, because he thought I was actually a year older, he thought I was sixteen already and he was actually angry with me when I informed this stranger in my home that I was only fifteen. He set up that engagement immediately, regardless of anything else and he told me that it was my duty to the Lestrange line to accept. You were away on a mission, Grandfather, I had no one to help me, so I was pressured into signing the contract over that summer and I have regretted it since.”

 

“You boys are the apples of my eye. I care for you both, but I can’t forgive that son of mine for abandoning you both, even if it was the best thing that could have happened for all involved. I will never forgive him for what he did to you Rodolphus, it is as simple as that. If he puts another foot out of line, I will dispose of him and I hope that you boys don’t think ill of me for that, if it comes to pass.”

 

“Of course not, Grandfather.” Rabastan said. “After all the meetings, Harry has been hinting at the same thing. He says that my Father isn’t good for me and that he’s hindering my recovery and if he had to, he’d be willing to eliminate the threat to me.”

 

Xerxes was surprised but he chuckled darkly. “I’ve said it numerous times before over the last month or so, but I really do like that boy. I’m glad that he’s joining the family. He’ll fit in well. I must remember to tell Lucius that his son is planning cold blooded murder, he’ll be so proud of how far Harry has come in just seven weeks.”

 

“He’s said now that he wants five children at a minimum. It was in the letter that he just sent me. I’m not sure if he’s testing my reactions or if he really wants even more children than that but has been told to only have the three children. It feels like he’s working on bringing me around to his way of thinking and his desire to have more than the three that he’s been told to have. But as of our last correspondence, he wishes for five children.”

 

Xerxes laughed. “You get a ring on that boy’s finger this winter, Rabastan, you hear me. You can’t let a treasure like that get away from you. The most you could expect from a Pureblooded witch is one or two children, if you had a Wife like your brother then you’d have none. Five! I can hardly wait for you both to be married. I don’t care if he’s testing you or being told to only have so many by others, you get that boy with as many children as you can.”

 

“Tell Grandfather how Harry formatted his letter for you, brother.” Rodolphus teased with a smirk.

 

Rabastan laughed scratchily and pulled a long, actually an incredibly long, letter from his pocket and unfolded the piece of parchment that had to have been at least two feet in length, if not longer. He could definitely understand why his Grandsons had come to the conclusion that Harry had been writing it for two or so weeks.

Xerxes took the letter and looked at it and he laughed as he saw that each different paragraph was in a different coloured ink.

 

“I mentioned to him just once that sometimes I have trouble following long passages of text because I forget where I was and I can’t find where I’d left off in a passage easily.”

 

“So he wrote you a two foot long letter and put each paragraph in a drastically different colour so that you knew exactly where you were and if you did lose your place, you’d know what you’d already read from the colours. That boy is coming very close to worming his way into my cold heart.”

 

“Rabastan almost had a heart attack when he saw the length of the letter, then he realised what Harry had done for him and he almost cried from happiness.” Rodolphus said, getting a shove from his younger brother in the process.

 

Xerxes smiled as he read the words that Harry had written. He could tell that the boy really had come to love his Rabastan and he couldn’t be happier…except perhaps when Harry presented him with his very first great-grandchild. The next generation of Lestranges.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was upset and fed up. This was the second time in a month that he had to hunt all over the school and the grounds for his belongings. He contented himself with the knowledge that this would be the last time though. He’d gotten permission from Professor Flitwick to get an advanced Charms book from the Restricted Section of the library. One that contained an incredibly powerful locking charm that the imbeciles in his dorm room wouldn’t be able to break in their wildest daydreams.

As he snatched up another one of his books that had been jammed into the visor of a suit of armour, its spine twisted and the leather cover and the pages shredded, he vowed that he would have his revenge for this.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Harry turned to look at his brother and Draco and his friends actually took a step back from the anger and hate in his eyes.

 

“They won’t get away with this.” He hissed.

 

“They took all of your stuff _again_?!” Draco demanded.

 

“Everything, even my robes this time. I had to transfigure my pyjamas into a normal shirt and trousers to come looking for my things. They even took my fucking trunk.”

 

“I thought you were going to get a locking charm.” Blaise asked.

 

“I got one, but it took a while to convince Flitwick of why I needed a book from the Restricted Section, too long. I was going to cast the charm tonight, after I’d gotten used to the spell, but it seems that they got there before I did and they spent the night throwing my stuff all over the castle.”

 

“Come on, let’s look for it all.” Draco sighed as he headed off in the opposite direction, looking high and low for books or clothes stuffed into alcoves or behind statues.

 

Harry was so angry and it fed the cold, icy anger inside of him, engorging it and causing it to grow bigger until he could barely see straight from the anger. They would come to regret this; he’d make damn sure of it.

It took him hours to find everything that he’d lost, including spotting his trunk bobbing in the lake from the third floor. By the time he’d gotten all of his things back, dried those that were soaking wet from being thrown into the lake or down a toilet, it was almost dinner time.

He’d wasted an entire day, that he had previously planned to spend studying, chasing down his own possessions. Some of which were so wet or so damaged that he didn’t even want to keep them, including the shredded robes that he’d found pieces of all over the fifth and sixth floors.

 

“I sent a list to Father of all the things that are too damaged or not worth saving. He’ll have new ones sent to you soon.” Draco told him.

 

“Even my trunk has been warped by spending the night in the lake.” He groused. He was in a foul mood.

 

“I say that we curse them.” Blaise said.

 

“No need. I found a very _handy_ charm in that book that I got from the Restricted Section. If they try to open my locked trunk again…they’re going to seriously regret it.”

 

“What does it do?” Draco asked eagerly.

 

“Let’s just say that they won’t be using their hands again for a while.” Harry grinned.

 

“You know that they’re going to try again.” Draco said with a happy smirk.

 

“I’m counting on it.” Harry grinned wider.

 

“I love this new side of you.” Blaise insisted.

 

“It’s always been there, I just never exercised it much.”

 

“You’ve always wanted to curse people?” Draco asked with disbelief and a touch of surprise.

 

Harry looked at him seriously. “Can you keep a secret?”

 

“Of course. On my honour as a Malfoy.”

 

“I actually cast the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix right after she killed Sirius, before any of this happened and before I was adopted. That fake Moody in fourth year really shouldn’t have demonstrated those spells; he not only showed us their effects, but he taught us all the incantations and wand movements for the Unforgivables too.”

 

The two sixteen year olds opposite gaped at him and Harry shrugged. “She is the person that I hate most in this world.”

 

“But, the Dark Lord, he killed…you know.” Blaise said uncomfortably.

 

“Yes, but I never knew them. I can’t even draw upon one memory of them; I was too young to remember so they’re just a concept to me, something I knew I had, but I don’t have anymore. You can’t miss something that you don’t remember having. But I knew Sirius well, I loved him, I had memories and presents off of him. I remember how he looked and smelt, how tightly he used to hug me, the sound of his voice, the feel of his robes under my hands, his loud laugh, the way he prepared the coffee that he was always drinking from the moment he got up until the moment he went to bed, he always put it in his favourite mug. I loved him, I remember everything about him and she killed him right in front of me, a memory that haunts me every _single_ night and leaves me bathed in a cold sweat. I hate her the most…her and Umbridge. I’ll never forgive either of them.”

 

Harry left the two boys staring after him and he went to redo all of his homework, as his originals had all been destroyed last night. He’d had to borrow a quill, ink and parchment off of Draco.

He reached Gryffindor Tower with no problems and he sighed as he went up to the boys’ dormitory and made it to his bed, where all of his salvageable things were waiting for his attention. He had no robes, no clothes, hardly any books left (none of them were undamaged), no trunk and his Firebolt was still missing. The one thing that he had off of Sirius was his beloved Firebolt and he was not going to let them get away with taking such a precious gift from him. They had no right to even touch it.

The broom was personalised to him anyway, so they couldn’t even try to claim it as theirs, everyone knew that he was the only person in Hogwarts with a Firebolt, but it was an inconvenience, because he was holding Quidditch try outs tomorrow. He needed new Beaters, a new Chaser and a new Keeper, and if certain members of the Gryffindor team were as difficult as his dorm mates were being, especially after the way Ginny had reacted to him in the library, then he would need to hold more try outs for more players on top of the new Beaters, Chaser and the Keeper that he already needed. Maybe he should just replace the entire Gryffindor team, it might actually be easier, but then he hadn’t seen Katie Bell yet, maybe she didn’t care that he’d been adopted at all, he’d have to find out otherwise he’d be the only member of the team that had been on the team last year.

He sat on his bed and he redid his homework, using the notes that Blaise and Draco had kindly given to him, because again his had gone missing in the night. Instead of learning more about Ancient Runes and Arithmancy and reading more to make himself understand more, he was now redoing homework that was due in next week. Thankfully it was a Saturday and not a weekday, so he had the time he needed to do it all again, even if it did ruin all of his plans of self-study.

Hopefully all of his new things would arrive by Monday morning, because he only had what he was currently wearing and he couldn’t keep transfiguring them into pyjamas and back and he had no socks to wear and no change of underwear either, he felt like he was back in the cupboard, wearing his cousin’s too big, baggy briefs and a pair of trousers and a shirt that were several sizes too big for him.

He clenched his teeth together and took in several long, deep breaths. He would have his revenge on them, even if he had to wait weeks to implement it. He would pay them back for what they’d done to him twice now. It was only a matter of time and he could hardly wait to take his revenge on them now.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry had been forced to hold try outs on a borrowed school broom, but Professor McGonagall had promised him that she wouldn’t accept thievery and she’d have his broom back with him soon. He’d tried to summon it twice now, but wherever it was, it wasn’t responding to his spell.

He’d still shown up most of the applicants for the team positions on the school broom and he’d thrown Ginny off of the team after she refused to stop belittling him and had petulantly and blatantly ignored his Captain’s orders. From her face, she hadn’t expected him to react at all, let alone by throwing her off of the team. It was her own fault for being so puerile and bitter over his adoption. If she couldn’t be happy for him, then fine, but if she couldn’t even put it aside long enough to get ten minutes into a practice session without sneering and belittling him, then he was not going to put up with her. It made it better because he knew that she wanted to be a professional player, her chances of that now were slimmer, because any team she applied to could look into her school records and see that she had been kicked off of her school team for unprofessional conduct.

He’d made a whole new team, though Katie Bell was still a Chaser with the new addition of Demelza Robins and a new girl to replace Ginny named Sarah Priskin. His two new Beaters were third years and his Keeper was a second year. He had a young team, with a touch of experience from himself and Katie. If he played his cards right and trained them superbly, then this team would be Gryffindor’s triumph for the next four years.

He had also prepared a reserve team, who were very, very young, all second years with one third year as a Beater. The twelve year old Seeker was being trained personally by him and the poor boy had almost wet himself when Harry had told him what would be happening from now on and that he would be having personal lessons to help him fly and to hone his skills to be an excellent Seeker. He had this year and the next to get this young boy into shape and up to the standard that he expected and then, when he graduated, he’d leave behind his handpicked team as his legacy.

Monday morning saw a regal owl landing in front of him with a large parcel and Harry smiled as he took the letter from the owl’s beak and tore it open, thankful that he had as Lucius warned him that as soon as the parcel was free of the packaging, it would all resize and the weightless charm would disengage.

He abandoned his half eaten breakfast and took his parcel back up to Gryffindor tower and into the dormitories. He tore it open eagerly and watched as his brand new, sleek trunk resized itself. He grinned as he noticed the personal touches on it, the dark wood, the gleaming polish, the little carved vines around the edges, the Malfoy crest stamped onto the front and the small inscription of his name in gold on the front of the rounded lid, just above the seam where the trunk opened.

He grinned wider and flung it open and his mouth actually hurt from his smile when he saw all the new books, the pristine robes (both school ones and his brand new Quidditch robes in scarlet red and yellow) and all of the things that he needed, plain black socks, plain black boxer-briefs, two sets of black gloves, one pair was sheepskin for the winter and the other pair was dragonhide for the summer, everything that he had lost had not only been replaced, but had been upgraded with a Malfoy twist of flair. He loved it and what he loved more was the letter and the small, wrapped gift, right on the top of everything, with Rabastan’s distinctive, shaky writing on the front. He was just sad that he didn’t have the time to open it just yet, he had lessons in just twenty minutes. He swore that he would do so at lunch time now. The waiting would just make him that much more excited to open it.

He immediately cast the locking charm on the trunk and the little added _extra_ , he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice and they were not going to destroy any gifts that he’d been given by his adoptive Father.

He went to his bedside drawer, thankful that his dorm mates hadn’t bothered to look through the drawers of his bedside table, likely to avoid waking him up as the bedside table was right next to his head, and he took out his Father’s invisibility cloak, several framed pictures of his parents, the album that Hagrid had given to him, his three vault keys and his exchange book. All of them went right into his trunk to be covered by the protective charms and he smiled. All he needed now was his Firebolt back, and he would get it back, of that he promised. He would get it back and he would have his revenge on those who had taken it in the first place.

He immediately changed himself out of the clothes that he’d been wearing for the last few days (it was a relief to finally change his boxers and actually get on a pair of socks), wearing all fresh clothing and the pair of highly polished new shoes that Lucius had sent to him before he slung his new backpack over his shoulder and he made his way to his lessons feeling so much better and he was happy to know that it would never happen again. Those imbeciles would not be able to break that locking charm and after the brilliant effects of the additional charm that was on the trunk kicked in, they would regret even trying to touch his stuff.

His day passed well enough and he loved the looks on his dorm mates faces when they saw him not only wearing brand new, high quality clothing, but also handing in his completed homework. It made him smile as he sat himself next to Draco, who he’d informed of all the goings on and his new delivery of items.

 

“Your trunk matches mine, only my name is done in silver.”

 

“You do have a fondness for silver.” Harry said with a smile.

 

“What is your favourite colour? I don’t think you’ve ever said.”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, but I am drawn to several different colours for different reasons. Gold definitely, because it’s the colour of the snitch, blue because it’s the colour of the sky, which represents freedom to me and my love of flying, green because of my eyes, which always make my think of my Mum, yellow because of the sun, which represents happiness. I just…I don’t have one colour that I like, I’m drawn to several of them.”

 

“You really are special.” Draco told him and Harry chuckled quietly. “And speaking of special, have you heard more from that special person of yours?”

 

Harry grinned. “He sent me a letter this morning. It was in the trunk along with a small gift. I never had the time to open it; I’m going to do it at lunch. I really can’t wait, I want to know what he has to say and what he sent to me.”

 

“You have it so bad for him.”

 

“I know, but I can’t help it. It’s insane, I never expected to even like him, but I do, Draco. I really do. I want to help him, I want him to get better and I know it’ll take a long time, but I want to be there for him, to help him. He’s letting me do everything that I want to, if I say I want five kids, he says fine, if I said I wanted ten of them, I’m sure that he’d agree. He let me talk about our ceremony for three hours and he just agreed with me. He’s not at all what I was expecting.”

 

“What, you thought he’d be an insane, rambling lunatic who fired off curses at shadows?” Draco murmured under his breath, barely audible to Harry, who was bending his head near Draco’s mouth and even he had trouble hearing him.

 

“Well, that’s not exactly what I thought, but I did say to myself that if he was like that then I wouldn’t even consider him, but I wasn’t expecting him to be so caring or attentive. So…normal, I guess, despite what _that place_ did to him. He’s damaged, jumpy and twitchy, but that will get better with the right potions and the right medical attention, I’m sure of it. Despite that, he actually seems near enough normal. He reacts normally, not like Bellatrix. She not only jumped at shadows, she cursed them too without thinking. No, Rabastan comes across as normal to me, did he come out of Azkaban like this, or is it thanks to his recovery programme?”

 

“He was much worse when he first came out, Harry, believe me when I say that. You didn’t get to see him at his worst and thankfully I missed a lot of it too because I was at school, but I remember seeing a bit of him during the holidays and when I got home for the summer, Mother and Father were talking a lot about too. You missed the worst of the effects, when Rabastan was clinging to his brother and refused to let go of him, when they had to walk around holding hands and they had to share the same baths, the same bed and they refused to be separated long enough to go to the bathroom separately. That was a very bad time, but they’ve both improved a lot since that time and given some more time, I’m sure that they’re only going to get better.”

 

Harry nodded his head in agreement and he then turned to actually start on his class work. He did like Rabastan and he was surprised that the man was actually near enough normal, or as normal as someone really could be after fifteen long, harsh years in Azkaban, but he was sure that given a few more years then he’d be much better than he was at the moment, he had already improved. Draco had told him what he’d once been like and he was much better now than he had been then and now that Rabastan had him, Harry was going to help him to recover as much as possible, because he wanted Rabastan to be better, he wanted Rabastan to regain his strength and he was sure that Rabastan wanted that as well.

Together he was sure that they could get Rabastan to where he needed to be and he hoped that he was enough to help Rabastan, was he enough of an incentive for the man to get better? Would he want to get better for their potential future family? Would that be enough of an incentive for the man? If he wasn’t enough, then would the thought of their future children be enough of a drive to help Rabastan recover as fully as possible? He didn’t know the answer to that and it drove him crazy. He just wanted Rabastan to get better and to recover from his awful ordeal. He wanted them to be a proper, normal family. He wanted Rabastan to get better so that they could love one another, so that they could have and love their future children. He wanted that so badly that he was willing to do absolutely anything to make it a reality.

On the other hand though, even though he knew that Rabastan’s body would mostly heal from the damage that had been done to it over the decade and a half he had spent in Azkaban, he was also sure that as he spent more time with Rabastan, talked to him more and got to know him a little more, then he would find some very dark secrets, after all, he himself had nightmares from what he’d gone through in his life…he would be incredibly surprised if Rabastan didn’t have some nightmares of his own.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you have all enjoyed this chapter, lovelies and I hope I’ve done a bit of justice to the book version Voldemort, who is a little saner than in canon, but not too sane as he is still a vile, cruel man. But I needed to do something to help make the plot line at least seem realistic…so I’ve had to make Voldemort a little more sane and more willing to let Harry live and I’ve had to make Harry more open minded and accepting as well as more clingy to the idea of family thanks to his lack of one and the abuse of the Dursleys. Otherwise there would be absolutely no chance of this working, so just roll with it, lovelies.
> 
> The next chapter now is going to be October into November and Hogwarts gets a visit from the lovely Lucius Malfoy. We also get some more Narcissa and a scene of Harry/Hedwig bonding, but until then, I hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter and I’ll see you all soon,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	5. Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Of Stories Told because seriously, that review took me half an hour to read and respond to. Thank you very much.
> 
> Last Time
> 
> On the other hand though, even though he knew that Rabastan’s body would mostly heal from the damage that had been done to it over the decade and a half he had spent in Azkaban, he was also sure that as he spent more time with Rabastan, talked to him more and got to know him a little more, then he would find some very dark secrets, after all, he himself had nightmares from what he’d gone through in his life…he would be incredibly surprised if Rabastan didn’t have some nightmares of his own.

Chapter Five – Revenge 

 

Life for Harry was going well, as October came to a slow end with him taking the Thursday evening, Halloween night, to remember both of his parents and their sacrifice for him. He really hoped that they would have approved of his choices in life as he really was trying his best. But he’d had no direction at all as he was growing up and all he had to go on was the Dursleys and how they had acted and behaved and yet, despite them being the only role models that he’d had, he knew that they were the worst sort of intolerable people imaginable and that he didn’t want to act or turn out like them.

He had _needed_ someone like Lucius to take over and steer him onto the right path, otherwise he had no idea where he was going to end up or how he was going to look after himself when he was eighteen and Uncle Vernon kicked him from the house. He had the money, but he’d had no idea how to use it or what he’d need to do to get his own house set up and running smoothly until Lucius had actually spent the time showing him and teaching him.

Perhaps if Sirius had been alive things could have gone differently, but he wasn’t and he hadn’t told him about his Lordship either. Though now that he’d seen and spoken to Rabastan and Rodolphus, he had to wonder if Sirius had even remembered the Lordships. The two brothers were scatter brained at times too, perhaps Sirius just hadn’t remembered and thus couldn’t have told him. It comforted him a little to think that Azkaban had just destroyed Sirius’ memory rather than the thought of his Godfather keeping something like that from him purposefully. He really hated Azkaban and he wanted it closed down, though he would settle for banishing the vile Dementors from being near humans as they really, really should not have ever been allowed around people, regardless of what they’d done. He would change the way that the prison system was run, he was already researching everything that he could get his hands on and the little that he’d already found out was very disturbing and greatly concerned him. Things really needed to change…quickly.

November had arrived cold and bitter, dragging with it Gryffindor’s first game of the season. He’d had a little over a month to get his new team up to scratch and the other teams were openly laughing at him because he had such a young team and an even younger reserve team. He refused to rise to any provocation and he just ignored Draco, who was the Slytherin team Seeker, and Blaise, who was one of the Slytherin Chasers, when they pressed him and teased him about it.

He had a good, solid team, despite their young age and if his worst fears came to be realised and his young, inexperienced team fell apart under the pressure of an actual official game, then he was still the best damn Seeker in this school and he would catch the snitch before they were completely pulverised. Not that he expected them to be of course, that was just in case the worst case scenario came to pass, but he had every faith in his team. They would win this game, and this entire season and the Quidditch cup too, and show up all of those people laughing at them. That really would show them all up rotten.

But it was currently breakfast time and Harry had been told to go to the Headmaster’s office once he was finished with his meal by Professor McGonagall. Harry had a very good idea of what this meeting was going to be about too.

It had taken another few weeks, a little over a full month later, but eventually his idiot dorm mates had gone after his trunk yet again, as if they thought that he wouldn’t protect his things after the first time that they’d targeted him. The second time they’d managed to destroy his things had been a bit of bad luck on his part and some poor timing due to extenuating circumstances, but a third time? No…they hadn’t been able to get into his locked trunk, nor could they lift it from where it was placed by the end of his bed and all of his dorm mates had taken it in turns to try and lift his trunk like the idiots that they were. They’d gone back to sleep frustrated and planning to talk about something else that they could do to him the following day…only to wake up in agony late the next morning with their hands blistered and leaking pus, clear, sticky plasma and in some places, even blood. Half of the school had seen Ron, Dean and Seamus rushing through the corridors, still in their pyjamas, and running with their leaking, grotesque hands out in front of them towards the hospital wing, as the other students made their way to the Great Hall for their breakfasts.

Harry had caught up to Draco and Blaise, who had only just heard about the incident from a Ravenclaw seventh year, who had had the good fortune of waking up early to send off a letter, and he had insisted that he’d passed three Gryffindor boys screaming and running towards the hospital wing on his way down to the Great Hall. He had followed them curiously and he had found four boys in the hospital wing all in agonising pain due to a spell that had affected all of their hands.

 

“What did you do?” Draco had immediately demanded when he’d first seen him that morning.

 

Harry had laughed happily. “I did say that the curse on the trunk would make them think twice about coming near my things again.”

 

“Did it really make their hands fall off?”

 

Harry’s eyes had widened comically at that. “No! Where on Earth did you hear that? It just blistered their hands to teach them a lesson for stealing, they’ll be bound up with healing paste for a few days, but they’ll be just fine.”

 

Harry had been so satisfied when he’d seen his dorm mates again, it had been no less than the lot of them had deserved; though he was very surprised to see Neville with bound up, blistered hands too. He hadn’t been in the dorm room when the others had woken up, so Harry had assumed that he had had nothing to do with the attacks on him. He had been wrong and Neville had just woken up earlier than anyone else and had made his own way to the hospital wing before the other three had woken up and started screaming bloody murder. That had saddened him, he had thought that even if Neville hadn’t wanted to be his friend anymore that he wouldn’t sink so low as to damage his stuff. It seemed that he was wrong about that and he hardened his heart, blocking out the pain he felt at that particular perceived betrayal.   
At least he no longer felt torn in half about being in a betrothal contract with one of the men who had tortured his ‘friend’s’ parents. If Neville had stayed out of all of this and had remained amicable, if a little distant, towards him then Harry might have had a harder time getting over what Rabastan had done fifteen years ago in his youth to Frank and Alice Longbottom, but now that Neville had been revealed as one of the people who had stolen from him, and as one of the people involved in damaging all of his possessions, he brushed aside such consideration for their previous friendship. As far as he was now concerned war was war and there were always two sides and casualties and tragedies on each.

Neville had targeted him first, had attacked him first, so he hardened his heart and he shoved aside all thoughts of what Rabastan had done to the Longbottom family, as far as he was now concerned, he and Neville were nothing. Rabastan was his future and Neville had made his choice very clear by attacking him and as a result of that, Harry had been able to make his own choice more easily and with less guilt too. Rabastan would have always been his choice regardless of Neville’s behaviour, but because Neville had attacked him, it took away the guilt that Harry had felt in taking Rabastan for a Husband and the eventual Father to his children and that made him feel better.

But now, today, less than a week after the charm on his trunk had been activated, he had been called to the Headmaster’s office and he was sure it was to answer for why he had such a charm on his trunk in the first place. He’d already sent a letter to Rabastan telling him all about what he’d done, including subtle pictures of what his dorm mates had looked like before their hands had been treated, taken with his wand when they’d been screaming and shouting to each other, and at him, in the dorm room, and then a second photo of them all with heavily bandaged hands and arms afterwards. He’d shown these pictures to Draco and Blaise as well, to give the Slytherins a laugh at his ex-friends’ expense, and he had then sent them on to Lucius.

He wasn’t rushing to the Headmaster’s little meeting though; he was leisurely taking his time with his breakfast, he’d eaten his bacon, eggs and toast and now he was enjoying a bowl of fresh fruit salad as well, all washed down with three chilled glasses of pumpkin juice.

Breakfast was almost over when he finally drained the rest of his glass and got smoothly to his feet. It was a weekend thankfully, otherwise he would have refused to attend the meeting due to the disruption it would cause to his schooling. The look on Dumbledore’s face would have been a real picture, but instead the man had wisely waited for the weekend to pull him up on his charmed trunk. He hated to admit it, but Dumbledore had probably guessed that that was what he would have done, which was why he’d waited a full six days, and the start of the weekend, to summon him to his office.

Harry sighed and made his way up to the Headmaster’s office for the second time this year…it was only just the second of November! He gave the same password as he had the first time he’d been here and climbed the revolving stairs before knocking on the door and waiting to be told to enter.

Remus wasn’t in the room this time, but Snape and McGonagall were.

 

“Nice of you to keep us waiting for you for half of the morning, Potter.” Snape sneered at him.

 

“I was finishing my breakfast, Professor. Surely you wouldn’t deny me the chance to finish eating?” Harry questioned softly. “If you wanted me here just after I’d been told about the meeting, then why not schedule it closer to the end of breakfast and not before I’d even started eating? Or even for ten or eleven in the morning, which likely would have been best for all involved, it seems.”

 

“Do you know what this meeting is for, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

 

Harry pulled up a chair between Snape and McGonagall without being asked, despite Narcissa’s lessons on etiquette swirling around in his mind and his shoulders hunched instinctively, expecting the familiar hex to the back of his head for his social faux pas.

 

“Not really, sir. I was hoping that my Firebolt had been found, but as I can’t see it anywhere, I doubt that that is the reason that I’m here.” He answered, being purposefully obtuse. He knew that he was here because of the charm on his trunk. He doubted that the Headmaster was even looking for his Firebolt. Lucius was going to sort it out for him, he’d already promised him in his last letter to get it back.

 

“You are here under the allegation of using dark magic against your fellow housemates in the form of a curse on your school trunk.”

 

Harry didn’t even need to fake his surprise. “Dark magic? Are you teachers at this school or not? It was an anti-thievery charm. I brought my complaints personally to you twice about my things being stolen, and then stolen and completely destroyed, all of which had to be replaced at my Father’s expense. I was not going to allow that to happen again for a third time, so I charmed my belongings. But at least now you have that proof that you wanted about who was stealing my property, sir and I’m sure if they were questioned, then my missing broomstick would be found too.”

 

“Potter has a point, Albus. Those boys were purposefully stealing and they damaged nearly all of Mister Potter’s things to the point where they actually had to be replaced and a very valuable broomstick is still missing. I will not stand for this behaviour to happen within my house.” McGonagall said sternly.

 

“What charm did you use, Potter? I didn’t recognise it, but I could tell that it wasn’t a curse and certainly nothing to do with the dark arts. Where did you find the book?” Snape asked.

 

“It was in the Restricted Section, Sir. Professor Flitwick gave me permission to go into the Restricted Section to find a spell that would help me to protect my newly replaced belongings and he even recommended the book to me after I told him that people kept taking my stuff, he said that there was a very strong locking charm in there. I found that charm and while I had it, I read the whole book from cover to cover, the other charm was also in the book and I added it to my trunk as well. The way I see it, they shouldn’t have been trying to steal my stuff for a third time and potentially trying to destroy it again for a second time. They were a bit discomfited for a few days, but no lasting or permanent damage has been done to them. Madam Pomfrey could tell you that herself.”

 

“Even so, don’t you think such a thing is a little…uncalled for?”

 

Harry blinked incredulously, but he held his temper back by the skin of his teeth.

 

“They not only stole off of me, but they damaged all of my belongings, tore up all of my robes, clothes and my homework, smashed all of my bottles of ink, ruined all of my books and even my trunk and they were going to do so again and you think that me protecting the brand new books, clothing and trunk that my Father sent to me is uncalled for? No, I don’t think so and as my very valuable broom is still missing over a month after it was stolen then I think it is fair to say that you aren’t even looking for it. I think I’ll take my Father up on his offer of bringing the attention of the school governors to this matter.” Harry threatened him. “I want my Firebolt back and I want those pestilent _boys_ to leave me alone. I will petition to have my own sleeping quarters if this matter… _persists_.”

 

“I don’t believe that this is a matter for the governors to discuss.”

 

“Under usual circumstances, neither would I.” Harry insisted. “But twice I’ve been attacked in this way and almost a third time and my Firebolt is still missing. I think that if this continues for much longer then I’ll have to inform the governors and let them decide on the best course of action to take. I want my Firebolt back by the end of today, or I’ll send an owl to the governors. I think that’s all we have to discuss, headmaster. I have homework I need to do.”

 

Harry stood without being dismissed and he turned smartly on his heel and he left the office. He took a moment to breathe at the bottom of the stairs as a flare of ice cold anger had him pausing. It had taken him a lot to hold on to his anger in the office and he needed a moment to regain his composure.

He kicked off from the wall and made his way to the Owlery, he had a letter to send to Lucius Malfoy, who could get the other governors involved with this matter, especially after the Umbridge debacle. Her trial would be coming up soon and he really, really couldn’t wait.

He would get his Firebolt back and he refused to entertain the thoughts of apologising to his dorm mates when they had been trying to steal from him. He was not in the wrong on this issue, he was the victim of thoughtless, blind attacks of petty jealousy and hate and he would not put up with it. He had no reason to put up with it and he wouldn’t and if he had to call on his adoptive parents for their help, then he’d been assured that that was perfectly alright. He would not be used or made into a victim by anyone, he would make this stop by any means necessary, even if he did have to charm all of his belongings and petition to have his own rooms. He would not let them win. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was grinning behind his glass of pumpkin juice when twelve people walked into the Great Hall, including Lucius Malfoy, who had been reinstated as a governor, and incidentally as chairman of the board of governors, when he’d shopped Umbridge to them and to the Ministry. He had waxed-poetic about his two poor sons, one of whom had been seriously injured and permanently scarred and had almost had an Unforgivable curse used on him by the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. He’d been welcomed back onto the board as the previous chairman had been, very quickly, fired for not checking on the welfare of the students of Hogwarts and allowing Umbridge to hurt over two hundred students with the serious and severe misuse of a contract quill.

 

“This is a surprise, Lucius.” Albus said genially from the top table, standing up from his golden chair and smiling welcomingly at the entire board of governors who had entered the Great Hall.

 

“It is?” Lucius asked in false surprise. “I believe that my son told you that I would be arriving with the other governors. May we proceed to your office? I’m sure the children have better things to be doing than listening into our conversation.”

 

“Of course. Of course.” Dumbledore said with a twinkling smile.

 

“Harry, come with us, if you would.” Lucius called out to him, not having to raise his voice in the silent hall.

 

Harry stood and slung his bag over his shoulder, moving to walk to his Father.

 

“Is it really necessary to bring Harry into this discussion?” Dumbledore asked.

 

“As the student to bring these allegations forward, you know that it is necessary for him to be present.” Lucius replied smoothly. “I have been reinstated as the chairman for the board after Mister Wibblum’s ah… _unfortunate_ dismissal. I have no doubts that you cowed him into letting you do as you please, but as you know, I am not so easily persuaded. I have spent the week implementing all of my old rules and regulations; you will find things changing for the better around this school once more. Now, if you would like to lead the way to your office so that we might settle this matter quickly. I have a lot to be getting on with.”

 

Harry allowed Lucius to prod him in front, so that Lucius could watch him walk and they went up to the Headmaster’s office, where Lucius waved his wand to conjure thirteen, very impressive, sumptuously upholstered armchairs and Harry sunk into the one next to his Father happily.

 

“Now, as Harry’s Father and the chairman for the board, I would like to ask you first and foremost why you allowed my son’s personal belongings to not only be stolen more than once, but also allow them to be completely destroyed by the other boys in his dormitory. Harry tells me that he came to you with this issue the moment that he’d realised that it had happened, yet not only did it happen a second and almost a third time, but my son’s broomstick is still missing over a month later. Yet that is not even the end of it, no, I have checked and double checked, but the perpetrators have not even had a single hour of detention nor any loss of house points. They haven’t been punished at all for attacking my son or stealing his property. This is unacceptable.”

 

“Harry did put a charm on his trunk which severely blistered his dorm mates’ hands. They couldn’t use their hands at all for four days, which severely affected their school work. I believe this to be punishment enough.”

 

“Punishment enough? A mere theft charm on a trunk?” One of the other governors scoffed. “I believe the charm was only used on their third theft attempt as well, why were they not punished right from the offset? They should have been punished from the very first instance that they stole another student’s property and not doing so has only enabled and even encouraged their unacceptable behaviour to continue. Their parents never even had a letter to explain that their children had stolen another student’s belongings twice and had tried to do so for a third time. Why should Lord Malfoy have to foot the bill to replace all of his son’s damaged belongings? It should be the parents of the children involved who bought all of young Harry’s new items.”

 

“I spent rather a lot on my son’s belongings just this August, having to replace them all again in October, just two months later, is preposterous. This should have been stopped at the very first instance of theft.” Lucius said silkily, his voice soft with anger. “Harry has given me the names of those involved and as governors we have written to the parents of all involved and informed them of what their children have done and as of today, they will spend an hour every evening for the next month serving detention with their head of house.”

 

“A month seems a little harsh.” Dumbledore tried.

 

“I believe that it is too lenient, but I was outvoted by my fellow governors.” Lucius Malfoy inclined his head to the other eleven governors. “I admit that as my son is involved, I might be allowing my personal emotions to influence my decisions, but I refuse to allow them to get away with a slap on the wrist for what they have done.”

 

“I hardly calling blistering their hands a slap on the wrist, Lucius.” Dumbledore cajoled.

 

“Harry had every right to protect his belongings after they had been stolen twice. This is not up for discussion, we have laid out the punishment that all twelve of us have agreed on and it will be implemented. Now, onto Harry’s missing broomstick, where is it?”

 

“I do not know, I have been searching and following leads, but so far it hasn’t turned up. I’m sure that Harry has just misplaced it.”

 

“Don’t you dare blame my son for ‘losing’ his broomstick when everyone in this room knows that it was stolen and is being kept from him. Do you know where the missing Firebolt is, yes or no?”

 

“No, I do not.”

 

“I tried summoning it.” Harry said softly, waiting just the right amount of time so that he didn’t cut Dumbledore off, yet didn’t speak over his Father either. “I am the only one in this school with a Firebolt, so I tried summoning it, like I did in my fourth year for the first task of the Tri-wizard Tournament. It came to me then, so I thought it would work this time, only it never responded. I think, that where ever it is, it might be under an anti-summoning charm.”

 

Lucius chuckled. “It is in one of the girls’ dormitories then. They have anti-summoning charms built into them, as they also have charms to prevent young gentlemen from entering the ladies dorm rooms. The wards were set up to prevent said young gentlemen from summoning the ladies’ underwear.”

 

Harry pulled a face. “People actually think to do that? That’s just distasteful.” He said with a grimace.

 

“Yes, but I will have the girls’ dormitories searched. Madam Portist, perhaps you could do the honours, with Professor McGonagall as a school representative, of course.” Lucius said. “If we could do that now, the sooner that this is all done with, the better.”

 

Harry had to subtly suck in his bottom lip and bite on it to keep away his grin. He was almost bouncing as he walked alongside his Father and the other Governors. They picked up Professor McGonagall from her office and they went into the Gryffindor common room, where only a few students were lingering, watching them curiously, including a group of people, two of whom had bandaged hands.

The two women went up to the girls’ dormitories and the two boys looked at each other nervously. Harry smiled. Lucius was right, his beloved Firebolt was inside the girls dormitories and from the look on the face of a certain bushy haired girl’s face, he knew whose trunk it would be found in too.

He wished he’d known about the anti-summoning charms on the girls dormitories before, he might have linked it together a little sooner and had his Firebolt back earlier, but as long as he got his broom back, he didn’t care.

 

“Have you been well?” Lucius asked him quietly, moving them both a little away from the main group of governors.

 

“Yes, I have been fine, a little stressed because of everything that has been going on here, but my school work is going well, Draco and Blaise are helping me a lot.”

 

“I hope they aren’t doing your work for you.” Lucius said with a raised eyebrow.

 

Harry laughed softly. “No. Draco wouldn’t allow me to slack off even if I did ask, he’s just helping me a lot and he reads through everything I write for me. He actually crossed out half of my Ancient Runes essay two days ago and told me that I had to write it again because I’m a shame to the family.”

 

Lucius’ mouth twitched into a smile and Harry smiled back.

 

“I also have a gift for my special someone. I was given the most beautiful dragonhide and solid silver bracelet.” Harry said, showing his wrist, with said bracelet wrapped around it, to Lucius. “So I ordered something special to be commissioned for him, it came this morning.”

 

“I hope that it is both tasteful and appropriate.”

 

“It’s cuff links.” Harry said with a frown. “Do you think that he won’t like them? I didn’t want to get him a bracelet or a necklace because of his severe weight loss, they wouldn’t fit him anymore once he puts that weight back on and I didn’t want him to have anything that physically reminds him of how much damage that place did to him once he’s better.”

 

“That is very thoughtful and considerate of you, I’m proud of you for thinking of such things. You’ve also been paying attention; you overheard that he likes good quality, custom cuff links, didn’t you?”

 

“Maybe.” Harry said with a grin. “I miss him.”

 

“Soon, you’ll be coming back home for Christmas. Your Mother and I have planned to invite the four of them over as our seasonal guests.”

 

Harry groaned. “Can’t you knock the one of them off? I know I’ll end up saying or doing something.”

 

“You will not if you plan to be sitting comfortably over the holidays.” Lucius warned him seriously. 

 

“But _him_!” Harry whined. He felt the tell-tale smack of the familiar hex on the back of his head.

 

He pouted but he remained silent. “I am looking forward to coming home.” He said quietly.

 

“I admit, the house has been quiet since you left. Draco is a quiet boy anyway; you brought so much _noise_ to the manor.”

 

Harry laughed. “Draco’s only silent when he doesn’t have someone to clash with.”

 

“As long as you both don’t come home and start biting at one another like rabid dogs again.”

 

“We’ve been getting along better at school, but the Quidditch season is only just about to start, Gryffindor versus Slytherin is the first game of the season and it’s scheduled for only a little over a month before Christmas. Naturally Gryffindor is going to win, so Draco will be in a bit of a mood I expect when I catch the snitch from under his nose.”

 

Lucius’ mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Don’t be too hard on him.”

 

“There is no mercy in Quidditch.” Harry said passionately.

 

“Indeed.”

 

Harry snapped his head to the side and stood on his tiptoes when he heard the two women coming back down the dormitory stairs and he was practically bouncing on his toes to see if they had his beloved Firebolt with them. He grinned when he caught sight of it, but was ultimately dismayed when he realised the hideous state that the tail was in.

He let out a horrified cry and rushed to seize it from Professor McGonagall and check the handle for any damage. Someone had even attempted to scratch out the golden licence numbers that proved that the broom was his.

He turned his teary gaze to Lucius who made a slight movement with his eyebrow and Harry sucked in a huge, deep breath and composed himself, his hands tightening on the broomstick that had been given to him by his now dead Godfather. The very broom that his ex-friends had tried to destroy. There was no going back from this now, they knew how very much this broom meant to him and they had still tried to damage it beyond repair. He swallowed all of the upset and the raging anger that was burning him up on the inside; he glared at the table that held Ron, Dean, Hermione and Ginny, who were all trying to avoid the gaze of so many authority figures.

 

“Miss Granger, would you care to explain why this missing broomstick was found in your trunk, in the state that it is in?” Professor McGonagall, her lips white and pressed into a thin line, her nostrils flaring in anger, demanded of the red faced girl.

 

“It was already like that.” Ginny jumped in quickly.

 

“So you were involved in this too, Miss Weasley?”

 

“I can assure you that my son’s broom was not in this state when he came to school just a month before it was stolen. I have pictures of him playing on it with Draco in the Quidditch pitch at the manor and it is in perfect condition with not a single tail twig out of place. Harry takes incredibly good care of his broomstick as it was a gift to him by someone very special and he treasures it deeply.”

 

“I…I have the kit up in my trunk, I service this broom at least once a week, sometimes twice. It means so much to me, which is why I desperately wanted it back, but this…this is severe damage. The tail is ruined, the licence numbers have been severely scratched, likely to hide that it is my broomstick, though as the only one in this school with this broom, I can’t see how that would have worked, and the handle could be compromised. This is deliberate damage and defacement and I won’t stand for it.”

 

“How much will it take to fix the broom?” One governor asked.

 

Harry swallowed down the tears and the anger that were both battling for dominancy.

 

“It’ll have to be sent off so that it can be professionally evaluated by the company that made it and that won’t be cheap, the entire tail could need replacing and the licencing needs to be smoothened out and re-engraved. I’m looking at a hefty bill of a couple hundred Galleons and that’s only if the tail can be salvaged. If it can’t, or if the handle is at all compromised, then it might not even be worth it to fix all of the damage. It would have to be fully replaced with a new broom and then it would lose all of the sentimental value that it holds for me.”

 

Harry was so torn between utter devastation at what had happened to the Firebolt that Sirius had given to him and such furious anger at his former friends that his vision had tunnelled until all he could see were the faces of his house mates, four people that just last year he had called his friends, including two people who had been his very best friends in the world.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched away from it, startled. He looked over his shoulder to see Dumbledore stood behind him. His bitter, hostile anger flared colder and his head started searing in pain. He gasped and raised a hand to the scar on his forehead and he pressed against it hard.

Lucius was there then, with a handkerchief and a furious anger in his eyes as he glared at Dumbledore.

 

“What did you do to my son?” He demanded coldly as Harry was pulled away from Dumbledore, his hand was peeled from his forehead and Lucius looked at his bleeding scar, pressing his handkerchief over it again.

 

“This is Voldemort’s doing.” Dumbledore insisted to the worried governors. “Harry’s scar often hurts him when Voldemort is being active and it has bled before.”

 

“Stop lying!” Harry shouted out. “Stop feeding me these lies, you’re always lying to me! This happened when you touched me! I didn’t even have a headache or anything before you touched me!”

 

Lucius squeezed him tightly, warning him to calm himself down and keep his composure, even as he kept pressure on his forehead.

 

“Keep your temper; you are revealing more than you know in your anger.” Lucius whispered into his ear.

 

“You know that this is Voldemort’s fault.” Dumbledore told him.

 

“You were always telling us that it was _his_ fault when your scar was hurting you, Harry.” Hermione spoke up quietly.

 

Harry gritted his teeth. “You have no right to speak to me or to use my given name. I told you what I was told by the headmaster, I only knew what he was telling me, but he’s lying about it, this happened when he touched me, he did something to me.”

 

“This is unacceptable, Dumbledore.” One of the governors said angrily. “This child is _bleeding_ after you touched him, just what is going on in this school?!”

 

“I assure you, governor Lettna, I did no such thing. This type of event is common for Harry.”

 

“Nothing like this has happened in the seven weeks that he has been with me over this summer and he has been fine for the first two months of the school term.” Lucius hissed. “It is very strange, I think, that he has had this type of reaction just as you touch him.”

 

Harry just stood there and allowed the governors and Dumbledore to fight it out in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. He went back to his ruined Firebolt and looked at it sadly, even as Lucius’ hand cupped a handkerchief to his forehead. It seemed to him that his friends had repeated bashed and forced the tail into the floor at a vertical angle, snapping the perfectly sleek, honed birch tail twigs, making an utter mess of them when he’d done nothing but groom and clip them since he’d received the broomstick. It was sickening what they’d done to something that had meant so, so much to him. He would never forgive them for this. Never.

 

“Come Harry, we shall send this broomstick off immediately and whatever the bill, those involved will share the cost of that as well. My my, I wonder if your parents can even afford that, young Weasleys. The cost of destroying all of Harry’s school things and I having to replace them was going to be hefty enough, but a Firebolt in this condition to repair as well, that is going to cost excessively.”

 

“You can afford to buy it yourself!” Ron exploded.

 

“Why should my Father have to?” Harry demanded furiously. “Whether rich or poor, it was still you who destroyed all of my things and they all had to be replaced. You need to take responsibility for what you did and if you couldn’t afford to replace it, then you shouldn’t have destroyed it all in the first place!”

 

“There is no need to lose your temper, Harry. Not over such a matter as this.” Lucius told him with a sniff. “At least now we know what happened to your broom and we can have it repaired, no matter the cost.”

 

Harry nodded and allowed himself to be led away, going to the Owlery where he could send off his broom to be repaired. It was only once they were actually in the semi-privacy of the Owlery that he let two hot tears slide down his cheeks.

 

Lucius sighed. “Why are you crying? It will be fixed within a month. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

Harry shook his head. “I know that. It’s just…Sirius gave me this, I’ve loved it as I loved him and now he’s gone, so I…”

 

“You cling to the broom in his place.” Lucius surmised as Harry fell silent.

 

Harry nodded. “Now it looks like this and it’s all going to be replaced and it won’t be the broom that he gave to me anymore, the parts of it that he actually touched with his own hands will be removed and replaced.”

 

“The handle is still intact, it doesn’t look to be compromised and ebony wood is very hard and dense, thus it takes considerable force to damage. It is only really the licencing that needs to be re-engraved and the tail twigs need to be replaced, he would have still held this broom in his hands, he still paid for it with his own money and the intent behind the gesture will not diminish merely because it needs to be serviced. He still loved you enough to buy this broom for you, he still wanted you to have it and you will have it back once it has been repaired. The memories attached to it will not leave you.”

 

Harry sniffled and he nodded his head. “I understand, I just hate seeing something so precious to me like this.”

 

“Then let us send it off and be gone with this upsetting sight.”

 

Harry nodded again and handed the Firebolt to Lucius, who used one of the numerous school owls to send the broomstick off to the manufactures company, Ellerby and Spudmore.

He watched the large owl carry off the ruined broomstick with a note written by Lucius about what had happened to it and what he wished to be done about it. Harry swallowed hard when it was finally out of sight and he turned back to Lucius, his face now dry of the few tears that had fallen.

 

“I have so few things to remember the people I love by.” He said softly. “When anyone damages those things, I get so angry and I lose control of my emotions. I’m sorry for that.”

 

Lucius nodded. “I understand quite well, Harry, there is no need to apologise. I have only ever struck Draco in malice once in my life and he was just a boy, no more than six. He idolised me, as I believe he might still, but he often played with my jewellery and my dress robes. I would come home to find him in one of my most expensive robes, trailing it behind him and walking all over the internal fabric, wearing my chains and rings that were much too big for him. I never minded and it used to amuse me, so I never thought to stop him. He found a lock box of mine in a cupboard out of his reach and he’d gotten our house elf, Dobby, to open it for him and as I had never told him not to open it, the elf did as he was told. Inside was a rather ancient family heirloom, dating back hundreds of years to Armand Malfoy. The gold was pure, meaning it was very soft and malleable and in the hands of a six year old, it did not last for very long until it broke. I was so furious that something so precious to my family, that had become so precious to me, had been broken by anyone, that I actually struck Draco across the face. Of course such an action had severe consequences, none more so than my Wife threatening to take our son and leave me. I regret what I did to my own son, but when I saw the ruined heirloom, I didn’t even think before I acted. It is one of only a handful of times where I have acted without thought and it has served to remind me exactly how important it is to think before I act. I am unsure whether Draco remembers the incident or not, but he never played with my jewellery again and he never dressed up in my robes again and just a few months later, he hit another person for the first time, Astoria Greengrass. I have a feeling that that was a direct consequence of what I’d done months earlier to him, but I could never be sure if it was a coincidence or not.”

 

Harry had no idea what to say about that, so he stayed silent and held his tongue. Lucius ran a large hand over his shoulder and squeezed.

 

“Come, I think I’ll spend an hour or so with you and Draco and check over all of your school assignments to make sure that you’re exercising your full abilities.”

 

“I am! I swear I am. I even considered dropping myself from the Quidditch team, though now I won’t…I’m going to make that team the best I can and I’ll do it on a school broom if I have to!”

 

Lucius smiled at him. “Strength of character…good. Keep that up and you might find yourself making something of yourself, now come along, I don’t have endless amounts of time to spend here and I do want to spend some time with you and Draco before I have to leave.”

 

Harry nodded and he turned on his heel and he followed Lucius out of the Owlery. He took the man to the library, where he found Draco and Blaise waiting for them with their homework spread out already. Harry settled himself down and he very much enjoyed the time that he spent with the three, even if it was just doing homework in the dusty school library.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Lucius sighed as he received the breakdown invoice from Ellerby and Spudmore. The Firebolt was in a bad way, but he had been correct, the ebony handle was not compromised and there were no fractures or splinters which could possibly cause a fatal accident for Harry if he flew it, it didn’t need to be replaced. The birch tail twigs, however, were another matter entirely. They were unable to be salvaged and had needed to be completely stripped from the broom and fully replaced. The golden engraving of Harry’s personal licencing numbers had been professionally retouched without damaging the broom handle and Lucius was very pleased. Very much so, especially after he’d seen exactly how much these services were going to cost.

He had made sure to inform the Minister of the incident in the form of small talk, which wasn’t actually small talk at all but a perfectly placed, well thought out plantation of subtle information meant to discredit the Weasleys and Dumbledore under the guise of meaningless small talk about his adopted son, who just so happened to be Harry Potter, a boy that everyone was very interested in.

 

“Darling, I was making up Draco’s monthly treat package and had the thought to make one for our Harry too, do you think he would prefer a gift card from Quality Quidditch Supplies or a subscription to Which Broomstick?”

 

Lucius smiled and turned to look at his Wife, who was taking to Harry like a Grindylow to water.

 

“I believe that he would much prefer a subscription to The Quibbler, Dear. I have seen him reading it on occasion and I believe that it amuses him greatly. Lovegood is a friend of his.”

 

“Are you sure that that girl is still talking to him? Draco says that since the start of the school year, our Harry has been very isolated from his house as they reacted very badly to his adoption.”

 

“I’m sure that given the chance they would still interact. They are in different houses, I believe that Xenophilius’ daughter was sorted into Ravenclaw and she has never reacted normally or with the general masses. I don’t believe that such a thing as a mere adoption would phase her and it might help to remind our Harry that he does still have friends, if he cares to look for them a little harder.”

 

Narcissa nodded and filled out the owl subscription form.

 

“Did Harry seem settled when you last saw him? I hate what Draco is telling us is happening to him in that school.”

 

“He seemed settled and well adjusted, Dear. Just angry. I have no ideas on where such crippling anger comes from within him. It doesn’t seem natural how he flares up so quickly and easily and certainly not within his character.”

 

“His Mother was always fiery tempered.”

 

“She was and I’m not saying that Harry might not have inherited that fiery temper, but this anger he carries seems to swallow him, it blinds him with fury until he can’t even think straight. Such a thing is terrifying to consider, but all the same, I do not believe that it is normal.”

 

“Perhaps we should have him tested by a Healer then, especially after this revelation about his…previous _guardians_.”

 

Lucius’ lips pulled into a sneer, as they always did these days when Harry’s mistreatment by mere muggles was brought up. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Harry about it while he was at the school, he’d only been there for a short time and Harry had been upset and angry already, but winter was rapidly approaching and he’d have both boys home for the holidays, he would speak to Harry about it then. He would not allow any mistreatment of his sons to stand. It was why he had taken out the vile Madam Umbridge at the very first opportunity that arose. Her trial would be happening in the New Year and he couldn’t wait until he could destroy her indefinitely.

Of course it helped that he had regained his position as a Hogwarts governor and chairman of the board as well. He’d seen to it that Dumbledore was kicked out of the Ministry, which could only be credited to Harry himself for claiming his rightful Lordships, he himself had the Minister’s ear and now he had considerable control over Hogwarts too. He would ruin Dumbledore and he was sure that once he was ruined and not trusted by the wizarding public anymore, his Lord would destroy him once and for all, leaving their path completely clear with only the odd bump due to the remaining Order of the Phoenix members.

The Ministry was now being cleaned out. Madam Umbridge was currently in a Ministry holding cell, waiting for a trial that would see the unpalatable woman stripped of all dignity and prestige and sent to Azkaban to rot where she belonged. Lucius knew that others would soon follow.

Harry had set in motion a series of events that would see a new reform blossom, much sooner than they ever would have been able to implement without him.

He was personally very pleased with the way things were progressing and he knew that his Lord was too. There had been a few, very subtle, assassinations over the last month, a disappearance here, an ‘accidental’ death there and everything was falling into place. They were swiftly and smoothly moving into the place that they needed to be and it was all because he had had the forethought to put aside his own thoughts and feelings and adopt a neglected, and according to recent information abused, boy who was clueless, lost and alone.

He had snatched up the Boy-Who-Lived and he had worked and worked on the boy to bring his, rather sharp and analytical, mind around to his way of thinking and it had worked. Only now, after getting to know Harry personally and not through books, rumours, scathing reports or through the jealous gossip of his own son, he found that Harry was completely different to how he had once believed him to be. Surprisingly sharp and adept, he was more intelligent than he had thought, and definitely more open minded too.

He had expected a fuss, the boy had had his world turned upside down and he had lost his beloved Godfather on top of everything that he had learnt at Gringotts, but the things that Harry had chosen to kick up a fuss over hadn’t been the things that he had expected him to have reacted to.

He had had a harder time managing Harry’s day to day behaviour than he had over the betrothal contract. He had had more of a challenge getting Harry to respond to receiving gifts, mere trivial things like books and clothes than he had over being a Death Eater loyal to the Dark Lord. It was very strange and he had to wonder if it all stemmed from the revelation of abuse by those muggles that Harry had been forced to live with just because Dumbledore didn’t want to raise the boy himself, yet couldn’t risk anyone else becoming Harry’s magical guardian because then he would lose all of his power and prestige with the Ministry. Most notably he would have lost the Wizengamot seats for the Lord Potter and the Lord Black, and he had needed those seats, especially after he had been stripped of his title of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards the previous year. The Wizengamot seats had been all that he’d had left by the way of power in the Ministry and thanks to Harry, he had lost those too.

He was worried about Harry being in Hogwarts. He’d talked it over with the Lestranges and his Lord, but with all the other upheavals that Harry had faced lately, removing him from Hogwarts was probably not the best way to go. Yet with Dumbledore’s loss of influence in the Ministry, and now that he was once again a governor of Hogwarts and the chairman of the board, Dumbledore was going to start losing influence at the school as well and once the public turned against him, then he would be nothing and he worried that Harry would be in danger because of that, especially if Severus was right and Dumbledore was insistent on forcing Harry to fight by any means necessary.

He had been, they had _all_ been, charged with protecting Harry. He had gone from a priority target, to being their primary mission, and it wasn’t to capture him, but to protect him and because of Harry’s cooperation and his open mindedness on dealing with everything that had happened, everything was moving along that much more smoothly. It made a wonderful contrast to a few months ago where they were hitting snags in most of their plans and the boy himself had blockaded their way in the Ministry itself. He had to admit, even with Dumbledore still in the picture and the Order of the Phoenix still active, with Harry out of the way everything was falling into place and he felt more relaxed and confident that his life views would soon become law and as a plus, he finally had a second child to care for.

He loved Draco, his son was the embodiment of his love and care and he had always done and would always do his all for him, despite the few hiccups they had experienced over the years. But he and Narcissa had tried for a second child four or five years after Draco’s birth, but after all the necessary tests, he had found that he had a very low sperm count that was getting lower with his increasing age and thus, at just thirty-one he would be unable to conceive another child and it would be unlikely that Draco would have more than one or two children himself.

This opportunity had been a blessing to his family really, not only because of Harry’s social standing, his rare bearing abilities and his two Lordships, but because he and Narcissa had always wanted a second child and now they had that opportunity.

It was difficult because Harry was already a teenager, it had now emerged that he had been neglected and abused, to what extent he didn’t know yet, but such a thing disgusted him and he would sort this out for his adoptive son. Things would have been much easier if this had been done a decade before, when Harry was still a small boy, but he had been shaped by abuse and manipulation and as a result of that, he was damaged and angry and he naturally lashed out.

Lucius sighed as he filed away the invoice from Ellerby and Spudmore in a file that he had created just for Harry. It was getting quite full already and it had only been four months since he had adopted the boy. But of course between the actual adoption papers, the betrothal contract, the Healer’s papers on his fertility and bearing abilities, the documentation of the neglect by his previous magical guardian, all of the relevant paperwork, like Harry’s birth certificate and his Healers notes on his vaccinations (that he had been appalled to see hadn’t been completed, which he would rectify as soon as possible.) as well as the case that he had built against Umbridge and the case he would now build against his former relatives, the file was getting very full.

He would help Harry with his anger issues, he would help him with anything that he needed and now that they were all on the same side, there didn’t need to be any animosity between them, they could make this work. He and Narcissa could have the second child that they had always wanted, as well as a sibling for Draco, and Harry could have the family and structure that he so obviously needed. They could be good together, they could be a family until such a time that he handed Harry over to Rabastan as a Husband. That day would be sooner rather than later as well if all the signs and indications had been read correctly, he just hoped that Rabastan was ready to handle Harry when the time came.

 

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Harry grinned as he thought about his new, private, rooms which was more like a small apartment. He had four rooms all to himself. A living room cum kitchenette, a bedroom, a bathroom and a study room that was the smallest room, but had three bookshelves, and a study desk where he could do his homework.

Dumbledore hadn’t wanted to let him have it, not at all, but the governors had bullied him into it and had insisted that it was necessary for his own protection due to the hostility shown to him by his own dorm mates. They had insisted that they couldn’t allow him to remain in a dorm room where he was in constant danger of being attacked, so they had forced Dumbledore to remove him from the Gryffindor dorm rooms and he now had his own rooms on the fourth floor.

Draco and Blaise were both very jealous and they spent a lot of time over the next few days around at his rooms and they often spent their free time doing their homework at his coffee table with drinks and snacks from his stocked kitchenette that the house elves stocked every day for him with fresh food, fruit, tea and juice. It was enough for snacks, but he didn’t really have anything in the way of making a full meal for himself, so he couldn’t avoid going to the Great Hall for meal times, but outside of that and lessons, then he spent most of his time in his rooms.

His Firebolt had been returned to him better than brand new in record time thanks to Lucius influence and the knowledge that it was Harry Potter’s broomstick and he’d been assured that the handle hadn’t been touched, except for the high quality varnish and polish that it had been given after the re-engraving of his personal license number. It was so polished that it gleamed and Harry was so happy, knowing that this handle was the same one that Sirius had touched with his own hands.

The first Quidditch game of the season was rapidly approaching and Harry was so excited as he tested out his broom on his own to make sure that it worked as well as he remembered. He sped up and down the Quidditch pitch, pushing the broom as hard as he could, urging it to go faster and faster, turning at the last moment on a hairpin. It reacted to him just as he remembered, as if the broom was reading his thoughts instead of his body movements it was that sensitive and he flew around the Quidditch pitch for hours, just reconnecting with the broom that he hadn’t been able to fly for the last month and a half. He practised his diving and all of his manoeuvres and he felt so much better.

The icy anger that had plagued him for the last several weeks had left him up here in the air and in the clouds and he felt relaxed and happy and able to think again.

He touched back down gently and shouldered his broom and he headed back to the castle when he started feeling a little chilled. It was November after all and it was getting late, dark and cold.

He made it to his rooms and he collapsed onto his settee with a groan, broomstick in hand. He couldn’t bring himself to let it go just yet. The quiet of his rooms relaxed him and he closed his eyes to savour it, at least until Hedwig joined him and nibbled on his ear.

 

“Hey girl, how are you?” He asked her as he stroked her head and beautiful plumage. “It’s been a while since we had a moment to ourselves.”

 

Hedwig clicked her beak at him and Harry smiled, relieving her of her burden and grinning widely as she walked along the chair to perch on his leg. She clicked insistently at him and he chucked as he resumed his grooming of her soft feathers.

He put his broomstick beside him and opened the letter one handed. There were three other envelopes in the first and he looked at them excitedly, knowing that one of them had to be from Rabastan. He was right, he recognised the shaky letters on the second envelope caused by Rabastan’s weakened muscles and his cramps and he dived on it immediately.

He opened this letter quickly, taking his hand away from Hedwig before shaking the parchment out and letting his hand fall back to her feathers as he quickly read the letter that had been sent to him. He could see that Rabastan had really tried when writing this letter, but it was immediately apparent where Rabastan’s arm had jerked out of his control and he had scored the parchment with his quill, leaving long lines of black ink.

Harry still read the letter and he couldn’t help grinning like a loon, a warm feeling filling up his insides as he read it through several times. He liked hearing that Rabastan was missing him and that he had loved the cuff links that Harry had gifted to him and how he couldn’t wait until they could spend more time together during the winter holidays.

He hated that Rabastan had apologised for his shaky, often illegible, cursive and the jerked lines through the writing. He’d definitely have to sort that out once he went home for the holidays, he wouldn’t have Rabastan apologising for the damage done to him by Azkaban, it wasn’t his fault and he couldn’t control it. He was already doing everything that he could to rectify the damage done, he was on a very strict dietary plan, he was taking all sorts of potions and doing all sorts of strengthening exercises to help himself. He was doing everything that he possibly could and Harry would not have him apologising for anything because he knew it was going to take years for the damage to heal, it wouldn’t happen over days, weeks or even months, but years and it was all thanks to Azkaban.

He hated that fucking prison with a furious passion, it was unnatural and inhumane and there was no going back if an innocent person was put in that hell hole like Sirius had been, they came out just as fucking damaged and no amount of Galleons thrown at them in the form of ‘compensation’ helped the years’ worth of recovery and therapy that was needed to try and rectify the damage that had been done. That prison really needed to be sorted out and those damn Dementors needed to be cleaned out. Azkaban had ruined two people that he cared about greatly, three if Rodolphus was counted as well, as he got on well with his future brother-in-law, not to mention how badly the Dementors affected him as well. He could only imagine Azkaban as hell on Earth and it needed to be addressed and sorted out.

 

“I’ll make him better, Hedwig.” He said into the silent room. “I didn’t really understand with Sirius. I was only thirteen and though I knew the effects of the Dementors, I passed out before they had much of a chance to torture me. I didn’t understand the effects and certainly not the long term effects of what being in Azkaban meant. I have a better idea now that I’m older. Sirius was innocent and he could cling to that, he had Padfoot to use as an escape and I know now that he hid a lot from me because I was so young and he didn’t want me to worry. Looking back on it now, I can see the pain as he moved, I saw the haunted eyes and the gaunt face and the emaciated body, even though he’d been staying in Grimmauld Place. Though thinking on it that probably wouldn’t have helped him either. He suffered through that for twelve years, Rabastan and Rodolphus suffered for fifteen years, that’s as long as I was stuck at the Dursleys. They were in prison though, with the Dementors and I couldn’t imagine going through that day after day, year after year. They have to be some of the strongest men I know, just to even survive that place. I know most people get sick and die or they stop eating or they just straight out commit suicide, but they never gave up, they didn’t commit suicide or stop eating. They clung to something, for Sirius it was hope and the knowledge that he was innocent, but what did Rabastan and Rodolphus have? They were guilty, they did torture the Longbottoms into insanity, so what made them cling to life?”

 

Hedwig hooted and Harry sighed as he dug his fingers into her feathers and scratched down the full length of her body and his lovely owl clicked happily in pleasure of the action.

 

“I suppose I’ll never know now, I’m not as tactless as to ask. Though maybe in a few years, when their imprisonment isn’t quite so raw, I’ll see if I’ll get an answer then, but I won’t hold my breath for it.”

 

Harry sighed again heavily and he sent Hedwig off. It was getting dark and she’d want to hunt soon. He put Rabastan’s letter back in its envelope and left it on the table as he turned to the other two that had arrived. One was from Lucius, just generally asking after him and if he was alright, which Harry found difficult to admit, but it made his chest tighten with unfamiliar emotions.

He swallowed as the letter choked him up a little and he viciously shoved it aside. What the hell was wrong with him lately? First the sudden, icy anger, now he was getting choked up and weepy because Lucius had sent him a letter. He was sure that someone was messing with his food, but the house elves of Hogwarts were under a contracted oath to never, ever put anything in the students food. The serious binding oath had been administered to all Hogwarts elves in eighteen-forty-three after some nut case in Ravenclaw had invented a new poison and had tested it out on all the students who had bullied her by asking the elves to put the poison in their food, claiming it was a harmless prank. It had killed fourteen people and had made twenty-seven others seriously sick. The Governors at the time had forced the oath on the poor house elves and it still remained to this day. So no, Harry wasn’t worried about anyone playing with his food or drink, but with how he was feeling lately, he could well believe that someone had been slipping him potions.

The third letter was written in unfamiliar cursive, but it had been forwarded to him by Lucius, so he trusted it, to an extent.

The neat, elegant words were even spaced on the parchment and there was no signature to speak of at the bottom of the letter, even Rabastan, who obviously couldn’t put his signature on anything, especially nothing that he sent to him, left an elaborate letter ‘R’ at the end of the parchment. It was always perfect, as if Rabastan forced himself to do at least that right when the actual letter was a mass of shaky scrawls, jerked lines and unintentional ink blots.

Harry read the letter through and he gritted his teeth as he realised exactly why this letter didn’t need a signature…he knew _exactly_ who this was and his hands physically ached to tear it into tiny fucking shreds that he would throw into his living room fire. He didn’t though. He controlled himself and breathed deeply and as calmly as he could through the urges to tear up the letter. He was surprised somewhere in the back of his mind that the anger he was feeling was warm and passionate, not the sudden, icy cold explosive anger that he had been feeling recently.

The letter itself would have been quite innocent, had it not been for the person who had wrote it. Voldemort himself was asking after his health and wellbeing, though he was sure that that was just ‘social niceties’ as he had phrased it two years ago in that Graveyard when he had forced him to bow before their duel. His real reason for writing was very clear further down, when he started ask…no, demanding, he couldn’t see the Dark Lord asking anything of anyone, after his thoughts, feelings and his motivations.

Voldemort insisted that he just wanted to be sure of his stance, that he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t interfere or get in the way of his plans. Harry ground his teeth together and clenched his hands, crumpling the letter in his one fist.

He had been doing his best to ignore the pink elephant as the expression went, but Voldemort had stripped that away by directly contacting him and Harry knew the red eyed bastard would expect a reply as soon as possible as well. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was another goddamned test as well or maybe it was just another level of the same test. He hadn’t reacted to Lucius talking of the Dark Lord at Malfoy Manor, he hadn’t reacted to being betrothed to a loyal Death Eater, hell he hadn’t even really kicked up much of a fuss about living with and being adopted by a Death Eater, so were they now testing him further?

He couldn’t stand the situation he was in, he hated that he had been forced here, into this position and it was all down to Dumbledore. He may have hated Voldemort, but at the moment he hated Dumbledore even more. This situation was all kinds of wrong and he didn’t like it, but he had no one left! What was he supposed to do as the adults all fought over him like a mere possession just because he had been indicated in a prophecy and had survived when he damn well shouldn’t have? His options had been limited before, but now, thanks to what he’d found out in Gringotts, he had even less options now than he’d had before.

He could have chosen to ignore all that he had learnt, though the anger he carried within him, which was slowly fermenting into resentment, would have made that incredibly difficult. How did one forgive and forget something of that magnitude? The abuse, the neglect, the lies and the manipulations. The complete disregard for him as an actual person, the theft of his birth right, the little games that could have easily killed him over the years…all to prepare him for his future purpose of course. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t face off against someone so powerful, so much older than himself. He was sixteen and he was sure that he didn’t know a fraction of what Voldemort had stored up in his arsenal over the decades. He would not be anyone’s lamb to the slaughter, he didn’t care what the reason was. There was always another way. No, he could never have forgiven and forgotten what Dumbledore had done to him. He just couldn’t.

Of course he could have struck off on his own. He certainly had enough money for it, but again, he was only sixteen. What would he do? Where would he go? He had had no idea how to buy a house, he didn’t know how to run one or how to pay bills. He couldn’t ward his new house as he didn’t know how to, he hadn’t even known if he was even _allowed_ to buy a house while he was still a minor! All he would be able to do was cook and clean, because that’s all the Dursleys had taught him in his fifteen year stay with them. He had _needed_ someone to take him in and teach him how to do everything on his own.

He certainly would not have chosen Lucius Malfoy of all people to be the one to take him in, but he had been the only one actually willing to take him in and the man had started to teach him everything that he’d wanted to know about everything. All he had to do was ask and suddenly a new stack of books would be delivered to him by a house elf and if he had any questions after reading them, all he had to do was ask them. It was a foreign concept after the Dursleys, it had taken him a while to get into the rhythm of it, so to speak, where he would read the books given to him and then question Lucius on the things that he was unsure about. He even had his knowledge retention tested when Lucius asked him questions in turn to make sure that the information he had read had gotten through and stuck in his mind. He was _learning_ at the Malfoy home and it was everything that wasn’t taught in Hogwarts that he actually needed to know in order to live a normal, independent life!

It was as if Dumbledore didn’t expect him to live, so teaching him anything on how to be an independent adult would have been just a massive waste of time and it was that more than anything that panicked Harry and made him cling to the Malfoy family, and even to Rabastan, tighter. He wanted to live, he wanted his own family and his own life. He didn’t want to die!

He couldn’t just forgive and forget what Dumbledore had done and he’d needed someone to teach him what he needed to know to live a normal life, being adopted, or even just taken in by someone, really was the only option he’d had where he sort of got what he wanted and got exactly what he needed.

No, he would never have chosen Lucius Malfoy of all people, but after seven weeks spent in his home and four months now of being ‘a Malfoy’ he had to admit that it really wasn’t that bad. He was happy, he was looked after, everything he needed or wanted was given to him, he was a lot more protected now and he had a family to call his own. Things could have been better, he knew that, but looking back at where he had come from, he also knew that things could also be a hell of a lot worse. He was happy with the Malfoy family and he was very happy with Rabastan. Things would work out for him, because he’d force them to if he had to and it was with that thought that he got out his parchment and ink and he calmly and cleverly replied to his three letters. If they were testing him, he wouldn’t let them win, and if they were just genuinely curious and concerned for his wellbeing and his stance on things, as difficult as that thought was to believe, well, so much the better.

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was giving me some trouble, even after I’d written it and moved onto chapter six, I still didn’t like it. So the other week I actually deleted the entire thing and started again from the very beginning. It was only 9,000 words and now it’s almost 13,000, so obviously it needed to be scrapped and re-written and I am much happier with the result, so I do hope that all of you lovelies enjoyed it too.
> 
> I’ll see you lovelies again soon, but until then I hope you read, enjoy and review and join me on Facebook as well,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	6. Conscious Realisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> No, he would never have chosen Lucius Malfoy of all people, but after seven weeks spent in his home and four months now of being ‘a Malfoy’ he had to admit that it really wasn’t that bad. He was happy, he was looked after, everything he needed or wanted was given to him, he was a lot more protected now and he had a family to call his own. Things could have been better, he knew that, but looking back at where he had come from, he also knew that things could also be a hell of a lot worse. He was happy with the Malfoy family and he was very happy with Rabastan. Things would work out for him, because he’d force them to if he had to and it was with that thought that he got out his parchment and ink and he calmly and cleverly replied to his three letters. If they were testing him, he wouldn’t let them win, and if they were just genuinely curious and concerned for his wellbeing and his stance on things, as difficult as that thought was to believe, well, so much the better.

__

Chapter Six – Conscious Realisation

 

Rabastan Lestrange often thought of himself as a cold, unfeeling man. Even before Azkaban had stripped him bare and had ruined him down to his very soul, he had been cold and uncaring of almost everything that didn’t actually relate to himself.

He’d had countless trysts before Azkaban, he was a Pureblood from a prominent family, he’d been young, fit and handsome and his inherited body musculature hadn’t hurt either. He could still remember countless people, men and women both, and even a few who could only be classed as boys, crying and sobbing as he informed them that everything he’d told them had been lies, just to get them into his bed.

It had naturally started at Hogwarts. His older brother had often regaled him with tales of his trysts with women the night before, laughing as he saw their wet, red eyed faces over the following weeks and Rodolphus had been so…joyful. He had liked hurting those girls. He had told Rabastan that he liked the power that it gave him, so he had naturally emulated his older brother and he had done the same. Only he hadn’t limited himself to just girls.

He had made something of a reputation for himself while in Hogwarts, but he’d been at his worst when he was in his late teens and graduated from Hogwarts.

He still remembered the face of the one woman, a mere mudblood he had slept with just to amuse himself. He had made a grave mistake and he’d strung her along for a month, listening to her babble about how they were going to get married and have a family together. As if he would have even considered embarrassing and lowering himself to marrying a mudblood, to think that she had thought that he would ever sully his bloodline by having a child with her. But she had amused him greatly, so he had kept her for longer, which she had taken to interpret as true love, insisting to her friends and family that he was a changed man and that he was going to stay with her and start a family with her.

He still remembered the day that she had told him that she was pregnant. He could still feel the horror and the disgust, how had he not been more careful, _how_? He had told her then and there that she was mere amusement for him, that he would never lower himself to marry a mudblood and she was a fool for even thinking such thoughts. When she had been in tears and begging on her knees in front of him, pleading for him to reconsider for the sake of their baby…that had been when he’d ripped his wand out of his holster and slashed his wand over her midsection. The curse that his Grandfather had meticulously taught and instructed him to cast, just in case there were any unsavoury ‘accidents’ in his youth, had insured that the baby within her was no more, whether it truly was his or another man’s, he didn’t care, he would not bear the shame of an unworthy mudblood carrying his child. A bastard child no less.

He had left that woman, her name and face eluded him now, on the floor of her small, ratty home and he had never seen her again. He had never played the game again. He had realised exactly how dangerous it had been. If she hadn’t believed that they would be married, that they were in love and that he had changed. If she hadn’t told him that she was pregnant right away…if he hadn’t strung along that game for his own amusement, then he might have had the utmost, compounding shame of a bastard, halfblood child in the world. The embarrassment of such a thought stung him even now. He had never told his Grandfather or his brother about that mudblood and for as long as he lived, he never would, that haunting secret would go with him to the grave.  
His trysts had trailed off after that, his Grandfather had been pleased, thinking that he had finally grown up and in a way, he had. He’d realised exactly how dangerous the little game he’d been playing was and he’d stopped immediately. All of his trysts over the following three years before he was thrown into Azkaban were carefully chosen, and were mostly men. He would never have a bastard child, ever.

His roundabout thoughts brought him to Harry and he fingered his new cufflinks holding the cuffs of his shirt closed. He loved them, they reminded him of Harry in a way, smooth silver ovals with a ripple of green through them that sometimes exploded with colour and made green shadows dance on the walls when the candle light bounced off of them. Plain, simple, elegant and utterly unique.

He twitched hard and clenched his regrown teeth together, fighting the aftershocks of smaller twitches and ticks that followed. How could Harry even stand to look at him? He’d seen himself in the full length bathroom mirror. He had seen the damage, the wastage that Azkaban had inflicted on his body. He was ugly, inside and out, what would a boy as young, beautiful and as powerful and influential as Harry want with a broken man who couldn’t even write a letter properly?

Harry was a kind, soft person, he deserved someone better than himself, but he was a selfish person also and he always had been, so though he knew that Harry deserved much better than himself, there was no way that he was going to give Harry up. Though now that his Lord was actively seeking for their marriage, he would have been unable to break off his betrothal with Harry, even if he had the inclination to do so, which he definitely didn’t.

Harry was different and not just because he was someone influential and from a good family, in a roundabout way. He hadn’t just slept with mudbloods or sluts of no proper bloodlines or import in his youth, he had slept with Pureblooded men and women as well over the years and he had treated them all the same, he had played with every single one of them. He didn’t know why Harry was different to everyone else, he just was.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of Azkaban, or if it was because he was the ruin of a man who was hideous to look upon and yet Harry was so beautiful and he looked and smiled at him like he was still in his late teens, with his perfectly fit body, his handsome face and all of his hair.

Harry treated him like he was still normal where other people recoiled in horror and disgust. Some of them had even dared to sneer and hiss comments about his appearance, though he got a feeling that they were the people that he had played his games with in his youth. He couldn’t be sure because Azkaban had blurred the faces of all of them.

But Harry looked into his eyes, Harry sat next to him and kept eye contact and he didn’t recoil away. Harry touched and held his withered, skeletal hands with their peeling, brittle nails with no sign of disgust. Harry spoke to him like a person, not like a cripple on his deathbed. For some reason he couldn’t actually fathom, Harry wanted to marry him, he wanted to have children with him and he couldn’t understand it.

He might have thought that Harry was blind, but he had stared deeply into those beautiful, magnificent, eyes for long enough to know that that most definitely wasn’t the case. Harry wasn’t blind, Harry saw him and Harry still wanted to marry him.

He might have thought that Harry had been paid by someone, anyone, to marry him, but Harry had enough in the way of money in his own right, he had inherited the stagnant Black and Potter vaults, which would have made him considerably wealthy in interest alone, even if he didn’t know that both vaults would have been piled high with gold to begin with.

He might have thought that Harry had been forced or blackmailed into being with him, but from what he had learnt of the fierce, feisty boy, that most definitely wouldn’t have been the case. Rabastan doubted that the Dark Lord himself could blackmail or force the boy into anything and he liked that thought. He needed a strong partner, one who wouldn’t let him call all the shots, one who wouldn’t let him walk all over them, otherwise his own marriage would turn into one of his games…one that he’d be unable to get away from and he didn’t want that.

Harry was perfect. He was young, beautiful, fertile and strong. Everything that Rabastan had always wanted, and needed, out of a partner. Everything else was just a bonus, his wealth, his power and social standing, his kindness…that smile that could infect a room and never failed to make his own thin, rough lips curl into some semblance of a smile. The tiny, soft hands that would hold his own without care, that would comfort him through another twitch. Those big, beautiful eyes that crinkled around the edges when Harry smiled from ear to ear. That infectious laugh that had been tormenting him in his dreams.

He needed to see Harry again and soon. He hated that his young Husband-to-be was so very far away from him at the moment and almost completely unprotected. He wanted Harry with him, by his side so that he could look after him. He wanted to talk to him face to face, but he was unable to and that frustrated him.

He tried to keep busy, the meticulous designing of Harry’s engagement ring was taking up most of his time, but the ache to see Harry, to hold him, was growing bigger and deeper by the day and every letter he received resonated inside of him. He wanted Harry in his arms and in his bed. Yet he couldn’t do the latter even if Harry was there with him! He was physically incapable at the moment because he was a ruin of a man and he wouldn’t even be able to pick Harry up, let alone carry him to his bed and show him exactly how much he meant to him.  
It was likely a good thing that the wedding was so far away in the future, because there was no way that he and Harry would be having a proper wedding night until he was much, much stronger and at the moment he struggled to stay standing for more than half an hour at a time…it would be many months, maybe even a year or more, before he would even be able to unleash his passions on Harry, but fuck he couldn’t wait for that day to arrive, it really could not come soon enough he thought as his mind raced around the images of Harry, and the tantalising fantasies he created and the whimsical wondering of what Harry might look like fully undressed and spread out on a bed. His bed. He grinned happily, it wouldn’t be long now. These next few years were going to fly by.

 

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Harry couldn’t have asked for worse conditions for flying. The rain was sleeting down in a mush of part rain and part snow, making visibility near impossible. It was freezing cold and his entire team, including him, were shivering so hard they were actually vibrating, making movement difficult. It was wet, which compromised their grips and they were playing Slytherin, the dirty bastards.

Harry had already waterproofed his glasses so that he’d be able to actually see, but it was about all he could do as he led his team out onto the soaked, muddy pitch.

Urquhart was waiting for him with the rest of the Slytherins. They jeered as Harry led his young team out to face them, but Harry had done well with them and their small, determined faces started up at the bigger, taller Slytherins in outright defiance.

 

“Captains, shake hands!” Madam Hooch demanded and Harry thrust his hand out for Urquhart to try and crush. The Slytherins were so predictable. It was why he wore steel boned gloves for Quidditch. That and it made clasping the snitch easier.

 

Harry watched with amusement as Urquhart tried and failed to crush his fingers. He took a moment to look around the stadium as they got into position and smiled as he spotted Lucius in the teachers stand. He’d said that he would be coming to watch him and Draco play together for the first time.

Harry looked to his brother and smiled wider at the sodden blond hair that was plastered all over his pale, pointy face. He was sure he looked no better, but he didn’t much care about how he looked, not as much as Draco did.

He straddled his broom and waited for Madam Hooch to blow her whistle after releasing the bludgers and the snitch before he kicked right up into the air like a popped cork. His broom was so fast that Harry was up and gone, looking for the snitch before the game had even really began.

The wind drove the breath from his lungs and the rain stung at his skin, but he was so happy up here on his Firebolt and playing the game that he loved.  
  
“Are you sure you can actually see anything?”

 

Harry turned to laugh at Draco, whose hair was all over his face and his cheeks were stained a brilliant red from the wind. He was shivering on his broom.

 

“Of course. I can see fine. You, however, look like you’re going to drop dead at any moment.”

 

“Your young team look despondent.”

 

Harry snorted. “They look like bedraggled puppies, you mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not determined to win. They’re going to be fine, you’ll see.”

 

Draco huffed and sped off and Harry laughed at having rattled his brother’s cage. He looked around for any hint of the snitch, but despite what he’d said to Draco, he could barely see three foot in front of him thanks to the wind and rain.

He couldn’t even hear the commentary over the gale force wind gusting past his ears. He was soaked to the bone and sure that he was going to get a cold from this…or pneumonia.

He had no idea how long he’d been flying and searching for the snitch when he heard a shrill, amplified, whistle pierce through the wind. He snapped his head around, his heart in his throat and he only relaxed when he realised that it was a call for a time out…Draco hadn’t caught the snitch before him. Fuck, he’d never be able to live that down if Draco caught the snitch, especially not with Christmas just a few weeks away…the holiday that he’d be spending at Malfoy Manor. No, he had to win this game or he was going to have to spend Christmas locked away in solitude.

He landed under the Gryffindor bleachers and looked at his wet, miserable little young ones. They were huddled together like the puppy pile he’d envisioned when talking to Draco. He couldn’t help but smile as he cast a heating charm over them all.

 

“How are we all doing?” He asked.

 

“Urquhart called the time out, the sloth.” Katie sighed ill temperedly. “We’re twenty points up, it’s too close, Harry. We need the snitch.”

 

“I’m working on it, I swear. Unless it flies up my sleeve though, it might be a long game, just hang in there guys….and girls.” He added, remembering Oliver’s ribbing when he’d forgotten the girls. “This rain can’t last forever and we’re ahead, let’s keep it that way and try to survive this game. I think Pepper-Up potions all around after we’re done here and hot chocolates of course.” He added with a grin.

 

His two young Beaters slapped hands in a high five and Harry smiled at their antics.

 

“A spoonful of sugar and all that. Medicine first though.” He said with a face.

 

“As long as you lead by example, Captain.” Demelza teased him.

 

“You know I will. It just means that I’m the first to get my hot chocolate.” He said with a laugh.

 

Madam Hooch approached them and Harry gave her the double thumbs up to indicate that he and his team were ready to get back into the air and back to the game. She nodded and Harry turned serious for a moment.

 

“Game faces now, people. Katie, you, Demelza and Sarah keep up what you’re doing. You’ll be alright, I trust you.”

 

“We trust you to catch that snitch too.” Katie told him and Harry nodded.

 

“Jimmy, Ritchie, you two are doing good too, I saw that bludger smash into one of Slytherin’s Chasers.”

 

“That was me!” Jimmy Peakes said excitedly.

 

“Keep up moves like that.” Harry encouraged. “Try and take out the Keeper and the Seeker.”

 

The two boys’ faces fell. “But the Seeker is Malfoy, everyone knows that he’s your brother now. So he’s off limits.”

 

Harry laughed. “Do you think he’s going easy on us because I’m his adopted brother? No, there is no mercy in Quidditch. He’s my brother off of the pitch, on it, he’s the opposition. You take him and the Keeper out.”

 

His Beaters nodded their understanding and Harry nodded back curtly.

 

“Pauley, you’re doing brilliantly.” Harry told the young, sodden Keeper.

 

“I’m letting too many in.” He sniffled and Harry got the distinct feeling that it wasn’t just raindrops wetting his face.

 

“You’ll let even more in if you dwell on it.” Harry told him seriously. “You’re a second year, Pauley. This is your first year on the team and your very first official game and you’re facing older, larger people throwing Quaffles at you and these are far from perfect conditions. Let it go and concentrate on saving the next throw. You’re doing fine and it doesn’t matter how many you let in as long as you’re practising and trying out a few of those moves we made up. I told you, this team is in it for the long haul, in a few years you’ll all be world class and ruling the inter house matches, until then practice, practice, practice. Now let’s get back out there and give Gryffindor a brilliant Christmas present by smashing Slytherin to smithereens.”

 

His team cheered and Harry quickly led them back out into the sleeting rain that seemed to be coming down harder than before. Harry cursed internally.

The game started off again and Harry searched harder when he saw Draco doing the same. He was at a huge disadvantage because he had glasses and Draco didn’t need them. He had perfect vision without the help of glasses.

Harry dived several times, but Draco never fell for his bait and Harry calmed himself, if he got angry then he would miss something or he’d be too tense to fly on a hairpin.

As the game carried on, becoming more brutal as he lost poor Demelza to a bludger and almost had his own head taken off by another, Harry knew he had to finish this game and soon. The sleet was getting heavier and harder and it was becoming more solid as it turned more to snow than rain, which was hindering everything from vision, to manoeuvers, goal shots and saves.

Harry went higher and looked down at the match from his vantage point and he took a moment to breathe, the sleet driving into his back so that he wasn’t inhaling water and partially formed snow.

A flash of gold was all it took and Harry was there one moment and gone the next, following the snitch, getting a face and nose full of snow, the wet and the wind biting at his face, making his skin sting, but he ignored all of it as he chased after the tiny speck of colour in the otherwise grey background.

He dodged players and balls alike, he was joined moments later by Draco, who tried to barge him off course with his bigger, heavier and broader body, but Harry urged his Firebolt faster and he laughed in joy as he closed in on the snitch, following it as it darted left and then dived down into a vertical rush of air that made Harry’s eyes water. The snitch pulled up five feet from the ground and zig-zagged away, just under the playing level of the Chasers.

Harry dodged under Sarah and then went over Ritchie as he chased down the snitch, Draco dogging his heels all the way and Harry gritted his teeth as the wind turned violent, ripping at his Quidditch uniform as he turned against the wind. He wondered how the fuck the snitch was even able to fly in these conditions.

His heart was in his throat, his excitement and anticipation was ramped up and he threw himself after the snitch, putting his absolute all into catching that tiny golden ball. He was panting when his hand finally closed around it. He almost let it go again, the tiny ball was ice cold and the exposed tips of his fingers burnt and stung where they touched the ball, but he clamped it tight in his hand until the silver wings folded over and lay quiet.

He was so happy and he rushed to his team and they converged on him, laughing and thumping him on the back. He was so cold that he could barely feel it, but he didn’t care.

 

“Let’s get back to the locker rooms and out of these wet uniforms!” Harry shouted out happily.

 

“Do you think you can come out of your private rooms for long enough to celebrate with us?” Katie ribbed him.

 

“After we’ve all gone to see Demelza in the hospital wing.” He said with a nod and he led them all back to the Gryffindor locker rooms.

 

He, Jimmy, Ritchie and Pauley went into the boys section and Katie and Sarah went into the girls section. Harry stripped off without caring, he was so cold there wouldn’t be anything on show anyway as he all but moaned as he stepped under the hot water.

He was joined by the three younger boys and they were all shuffling around self-consciously and Harry sighed.

 

“We’re all boys, we’ve all got the same parts. Just get under the water and warm up before you freeze to death.” He told them sternly as he stood under the spray and felt the tension ease out of his muscles.

 

“It’s embarrassing.” Jimmy muttered with pink cheeks.

 

“Why?” Harry demanded, turning around to see the three of them all trying to hide not only their cock and balls but their arses as well. He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t much for public nudity, hell he wasn’t happy with any nudity at all, not with his scars and blemishes, but he was freezing cold and he wanted to warm up. Besides, after seeing Rabastan and Rodolphus…things could always be worse and if he started bitching about his body when his betrothed had survived fifteen years of starvation and malnutrition in Azkaban, how the hell would Rabastan feel about his own body then?

 

“It just is.” Pauley grumbled, but he couldn’t help but give a furtive glace to Harry before his cheeks pinked and he turned away quickly.

 

Harry sighed. “You do know that it’s natural to look, don’t you? Curiosity is normal and there is nothing wrong or dirty in looking. When I was a tiny, scrawny eleven year old and I was allowed onto the team, I didn’t care about anything because I was so happy to play. Then I noticed that the older boys were looking at me while we showered, naturally I was very freaked out about it…so I asked Fred and George Weasley why they were looking at me and they just shrugged and told me that it was just curiosity. That was when my own curiosity was peaked and I looked at my team mates as well the next time that we showered together. We all had a good laugh about it and then we got dried off and dressed and went to celebrate as normal. It’s normal, guys.” Harry told them, remembering fondly his talk with Fred and George over their shower time antics.

 

“It’s just embarrassing because….”

 

Harry actually lowered his eyebrows as he cottoned on to what wasn’t being said.

 

“You’re worried about size? Merlin! You two are thirteen year olds and you Pauley are only twelve. Trust me, you shouldn’t be worried about something so ridiculous. Your body and size will change as soon as you start puberty and it won’t stop until you’re adults. So take a look at me, at one another and then get it out of your systems because curiosity is normal, let’s get dry and dressed and go to that party.”

 

The three young boys grinned and they took a moment to check one another out, checked out Harry and then the moment was over as Harry rinsed himself off, grabbed his towel and rubbed himself dry. It was too cold to mess around as he dressed quickly and then scrubbed his hair furiously, before he picked up his wand and cast a drying and warming charm on himself and he sighed as his body, now warm and toasty, relaxed and he was much happier.

The three young boys, also much happier, were messing around as they dressed and Harry grinned as he threw his arms around their shoulders and pulled them back out into the main area of the locker rooms and they met up with the two girls.

They all got under three large umbrellas and they made their way to the castle. Harry led them up the main staircase to the first floor and they went to visit Demelza in the hospital wing as a priority. He was relieved to see her sitting up, a little battered after her run in with the bludger, but no worse for wear.

 

“Did we win?” She asked them as soon as she saw them.

 

“Oh yeah!” Ritchie said excitedly. “Harry got the snitch! It was amazing, Demelza!”

 

“Are you alright, Mel?” Harry asked her. “No lasting damage?”

 

“No, I’ll be just fine. It was a hard hit, but nothing’s broken and I should be out tomorrow. It’s sad that I have to miss the party, but Madam Pomfrey wants to keep me in overnight, just in case.”

 

“Likely for the best.” Harry told her. “I’ll send Dobby with some party food and butterbeer for you, but make sure you rest and get better. A Quidditch match isn’t worth dying for.”

 

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d hear something like that coming from your mouth.”

 

Harry smiled as he turned to Madam Pomfrey. “I never thought I’d see the day that I wasn’t injured in a Quidditch match. It would have been better if none of us were injured, but I do not miss waking up here.” He said seriously. “But I’ve come to realise that I have my whole life ahead of me, I don’t want to kill or mangle myself before I’ve had a chance to live over a mere school game. Now if this was a professional team in the Quidditch World Cup, now that is an entirely different matter.”

 

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and checked on Demelza.

 

“How is she?” Harry asked concernedly.

 

“She’s going to be just fine. I want to keep her in overnight, just to be sure, but other than that, she’ll be fine to leave tomorrow morning.”

 

Harry nodded and he and the team stayed with Demelza, each of them taking their Pepper-up potions when Harry asked if they could take them to keep on top of any colds they might have contracted thanks to the game and they stayed until they were kicked out by Madam Pomfrey.

 

“Come on then, let’s get to the kitchens, send up some goodies for Demelza and then we can go to the party that is no doubts raging like a wildfire in the common room.” Harry said with a grin.

 

The team made it down to the kitchens easy enough, the younger ones being awed that Harry knew where the kitchens were in the first place, let alone how to get into them, but when Dobby broke away and all but fell on him, that was when their mouths dropped open.

 

“What can Dobby be doing for Master Harry Potter, Sir?” He squeaked excitedly.

 

“We won our Quidditch match, Dobby.” Harry said with a grin. “We were just hoping that we could have some snacks and butterbeer to celebrate with.”

 

The house elves were beside themselves as they pushed several large baskets of food at them filled with cakes, pastries, biscuits, bottles of butterbeer and pumpkin juice.

 

“Thank you so much!” He said empathetically, knowing that they’d enjoy hearing his praises as several of them sobbed in happiness. “Oh, there was one other thing I needed, if I could ask.”

 

“Of course Master Harry Potter, Sir! Anything!” Dobby replied tearily.

 

“One of our team, Demelza. Well, she’s in the hospital wing. Could you maybe sneak her a few cakes and a butterbeer? So she can celebrate with us even though she won’t be at the party.”

 

Harry had gotten several more wails over that and nods and promises to deliver the cakes to Demelza as soon as the hospital wing was clear.

They left with their arms laden with baskets of food and drink, all talking and laughing happily as they made their way up to the Tower to celebrate their win, exclaiming happily what they were going to eat first once they got there.

That idea fell through though when they ran into Lucius and Draco just past McGonagall’s office on their way to the Gryffindor common room with their arms laden with food.

 

“So this is where you’ve been.” Lucius said, his mouth a thin line, but his eyes were gleaming with hidden amusement.

 

Harry smiled. “We went to see Demelza in the hospital wing first. She’s fine, no thanks to that brute of a Beater of yours.”

 

“I’m not the Captain, Urquhart is and I’d like to remind you that you _were_ the Captain and I almost had my head taken off by one of your snot nosed Beaters.” Draco said, eyeing the thirteen year old Jimmy and Ritchie.

 

“There is no mercy in Quidditch!” Harry said passionately. “You’re the Seeker, you needed to be taken out. Not that you could have beaten me anyway.”

 

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes and Harry handed his basket of food to the others and sent them on their way to the common room, telling them that he’d be along a little later.

Harry led Lucius and Draco back down to his rooms and called on Narcissa’s ingrained etiquette lessons and offered them both seats and tea before he sat down himself.

  

“How are you?” Lucius asked.

 

“Exhilarated.” Harry said with a wide grin. “A little chilly still, but nothing a good night’s sleep and a couple cups of tea won’t cure. I already took a Pepper-up potion.”

 

Lucius nodded and settled down more after hearing that he was alright and that warmed Harry in a way that had nothing to do with temperature as he sat in his cosy living room and chatted happily with two people who he had hated not that long ago, but were very rapidly becoming very important to him.

 

“Everything is prepared for you to come home.” Lucius told them. “Your Mother will be waiting for you at home, but I will be waiting for you both at Kings Cross. I’m sure that Dumbledore will be trying to keep you here for the holidays, Harry. He might even try to force you to go somewhere that you don’t want to be, but the fool doesn’t have a leg to stand on, you are entitled to come home for the holidays. If he tries anything, anything at all, get in contact with me and I’ll come and pick you and Draco up directly from the school at the end of the term. The Lestranges will be arriving as our seasonal guests the day before you come home, to ensure that they are settled into our home before you bring all of your noise and commotions back to the house.”

 

Harry grinned and he couldn’t help but get excited, only a few more weeks and he’d be able to speak to Rabastan again face to face after four months apart. He was really looking forward to it and he’d missed his betrothed. He wondered, and not for the first time either, how much Rabastan had changed in the four months that he had been in school, how much had he improved, had he gained any weight? Did he look a bit healthier?

Naturally he knew that the process of healing was going to be very long and arduous, he wasn’t expecting miracles. He was intelligent enough to know that when he went home for the holidays that there was going to be minimal change and he knew that if he showed any hint of disappointment or upset over the minimal change then it would ruin any progress that Rabastan had actually made and would more than likely thoroughly dishearten his Husband to be.

That said though, he did want to see some improvements, perhaps with Rabastan’s confidence, or his speech, little things that would show that the slow, gradual process of healing was actually having some sort of effect.

It wasn’t fair, he wanted to be there for Rabastan, he wanted to help him so much, but it was very difficult to do so when he was hundreds of miles away and unable to see or speak to him on a daily basis. He had the overwhelming need to just protect Rabastan from everything, the effects of Azkaban, the struggle that would be ahead of them because of those effects, the Ministry for obvious reasons and from the wizarding public too and then there was Rhadamanthus…oh how Harry was not looking forward to spending Christmas with that man.

 

“Now, I’ll leave you to your little party.” Lucius told him as he finished his tea and stood to smooth down his robes. “Do try to conduct yourself in a proper manner and remember that your homework is more important than celebrating a Quidditch win with your little friends.”

 

“I know. I was only planning on staying for a few hours, I’m not going to stay there tonight, I’ll be coming back here. I’ve got most of my homework already done and what little needs to be done now, I’ll sort out tomorrow. How is Rabastan?” He couldn’t help asking.

 

“He is doing rather well. Him and Rodolphus both. Rabastan is speaking more and though the twitches make things difficult, he is a little more coordinated than he was before. I don’t believe that he would crush your hand again, at any rate.”

 

Draco snorted and Harry grimaced as a phantom pain had him shaking his hand out. “That’s definitely an improvement.” He said with a small smile.

 

“I will see you boys very soon, be productive, keep up with your homework, behave yourselves and look out for one another. I will be on the platform for you in a few weeks.”

 

Harry shut up his rooms and waved goodbye to Lucius and Draco, who would walk their Father out on his way down to the dungeons. Harry went back up to Gryffindor Tower and he used the password that Katie had told him to enter the common room to a raring party and he ducked in and found his team mates. The young ones were very, very happy to be included in the celebratory party, getting pats on the back, slaps to the shoulder and ruffling of their hair. They looked very happy and Harry was proud and pleased with them all.

The party grew in volume when the Gryffindors realised that their winning star Seeker was there at the party with them at last and he was subjected to his own slaps, pats and hair ruffling. He was very happy and joyous and he stayed with his team for the most part. He did get several filthy looks and some who were obviously and blatantly ignoring him, but he didn’t care about his ex-friends. They could do as they pleased, it was absolutely no business of his anymore, just like his own business was not any of their concern either.

He did not stay for too long, as he’d promised to Lucius, but he’d given his all in the match and he was exhausted and in need of a good sleep. Adrenaline and exhilaration could only take him so far. So he had a few butterbeers and a couple of Cauldron cakes as he caught up and had a laugh with the fickle Gryffindors, some of whom had been glaring at him just the other week, but suddenly he was their favourite person once again, just because he’d caught the snitch and led the team to victory.

He really hated the shallowness of people sometimes….then there were people like Katie, who had known him for years and didn’t care. She had been a little concerned, as he himself had been in the beginning, so he couldn’t really fault her for that, but after assuring her that he was fine and happier than he’d ever been, she had been fine with everything and they had carried on and conducted the full scale Quidditch try outs together.

Why couldn’t everyone be as accepting as Katie? Why couldn’t they just be happy for him instead of believing that they had some sort of right to tell him what he should be doing or where he should be living? It wasn’t any of their business, it was his, so they needed to just leave it alone and leave him alone. He was an adopted Malfoy now and he was soon to be a Lestrange.

His eyes sought out Neville in the crowd as he turned to leave for his own rooms and he once again hardened his heart. Neville had nothing to do with this, they’d been on friendly terms once, but even then there had been days where they hadn’t even spoken to one another. Neville had been the one to target him first, not the other way around. Neville had tried to take his trunk with the other Gryffindor boys. He had likely taken and destroyed his things the first two times it had happened as well and he had likely been involved in the attempted destruction of his Firebolt.

Harry clenched his teeth and left the Gryffindor common room. This was his life now and he was going to live it whether anyone liked it or not. They had made the choice to abandon him merely because he’d been adopted, something which had been completely out of his control. They hadn’t even given him a chance to explain anything before they’d gone straight for his throat.

Besides it was none of their business what he did or with who. He could be marrying Voldemort and it still wouldn’t be any of their fucking business. He grimaced at that very thought and almost gagged a little. That most definitely would _not_ be happening, but the thought still stood. He could do as he pleased and it didn’t matter if anyone liked it or not because this was his decision to make and he’d chosen to marry Rabastan Lestrange.

He had chosen to help the poor man despite his evil past and he had chosen to look past the rumours and stories that surrounded him and at the moment, all he saw was a beaten, battered man who couldn’t stand up without holding onto something and couldn’t control his muscles enough to prevent himself from twitching and dribbling on occasion.

Rabastan had never done anything to hurt or humiliate him, in fact, quite the opposite was true. Rabastan made him feel wanted and useful. Harry could talk to him and feel as if someone was actually _listening_ to him for once, instead of just brushing him aside or laughing at his wants and wishes as a mere childhood fantasy. That humiliation still stung. He’d told his friends and those whom he’d thought of as family that he wanted a nice wedding and a large family at dinner one day in Grimmauld Place and the only one who hadn’t laughed and patted him on the head like a toddler who had said something hilarious had been Sirius, who had looked wistful and a little lost, as if he was caught in the past. Thinking back on it now, he had probably been thinking back to his parent’s wedding.

It made Harry wonder, as he stepped into his private rooms and sat on his settee, if they had all laughed and mocked him that day because they’d known that, thanks to Dumbledore’s plans, that it was unlikely that he would ever reach adulthood. The thought made him feel sick and dizzy as his stomach dropped out and his heart lodged into his throat. Had they all known back then that he was being set up to die? He swore to himself then and there, that if they had known, if they’d even had a hint that that was what was going to happen to him, he would never, ever forgive them. In fact, if they had been in on the plans that were setting him up to die, with the way that he was feeling right now, he felt like he could turn around and kill them himself.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The rest of November and into December was dreary and wet. It rained more often than not and it was seriously trying to snow as the slush gave way under his feet as Harry made his way back into the castle after Herbology.

Just two more weeks and he would be going home to meet with Rabastan, who would already be at Malfoy Manor when he got home. He was so excited that he was finding it difficult to concentrate. Not that the teachers cared as they assigned more and more homework onto the sixth years in preparation for their N.E.W.Ts, which wouldn’t even be for another year and a half as the end of year exams for sixth years would be mock N.E.W.Ts, again in preparation for their final year of schooling and the real deal which would then dictate their entire lives after they graduated.   

Harry kept up with all of his homework though and he would do as much of it on the train as he possibly could because he wanted to spend all of his time over Christmas with Rabastan, not doing homework for exams that didn’t even really matter. Though he was sure that Lucius wouldn’t see it that way if he came home for the summer with anything less than all pass grades.

He’d received a sweet box, as Draco had, on the first of December and he’d opened it to find a plethora of goodies, including magazines, books, sweets, biscuits and chocolate. He loved that he was being included in this little tradition as he saw Draco opening his own gift box and immediately taking out his favourite magazine, a new issue was released every month and Draco was addicted to it, not that he’d ever admit to it of course.

Harry looked at the newest edition of the Quibbler and he frowned. Why had Narcissa sent him this particular magazine? Sure he found it funny and he liked reading it, as he’d proved at Malfoy Manor by buying a copy and spending the next day laughing over every article in the family living room, but he wasn’t an actual fan of the magazine.

He looked over to the Ravenclaw table and wondered if perhaps the elder Malfoys were trying to tell him something else. Was it alright for him to still talk to Luna? She was Pureblooded after all, so maybe that was what they were trying to tell him. He smiled. He had always liked Luna, even if Hermione hadn’t and her odd outlook on life had always amused him greatly, but he had never teased her about it. He had always accepted her as she was, perhaps she could return the favour and accept him as he was as well. He would really like that because he was getting very lonely and as they got more homework piled on them, Draco got more and more frantic about doing well with his grades and Blaise it seemed was obsessed with his newest conquest, a girl in Ravenclaw who had apparently rebuffed everyone except Blaise, for what reason Harry couldn’t even fathom, but they barely surfaced from whatever bed they’d stolen to lie in to eat meals and attend lessons.

Harry sighed, perhaps he really did need a friend and this was Narcissa’s way of reminding him of that fact coupled with a, sort of permission, to interact with Luna at least. Or maybe he was just thinking about it far too much.

He’d finished his breakfast and carried his treat box back to his rooms. He’d been spending so much time isolated up in his own rooms that it was almost like he wasn’t even in a school, but like he had his own apartment that he lived in alone. It was almost pathetic.

He hadn’t been flying since he’d held a Quidditch practice for the Gryffindor team the other week and frankly, that had been the last time he’d spoken to anyone as well. He was getting isolated and lonely and that wasn’t good for anyone, especially not him.

He made it to the castle and he shook the slush off of his boots before heading right back up to his rooms, the very rooms he had been insisting that he would get out of once in a while outside of lessons or meal times. He sighed and pulled some homework towards himself. He’d go and find Luna, if he could, at dinner time. Until then, he had a lot to be getting on with.

He was almost finished with his homework and he had been contemplating making himself a cup of tea and picking up his newest Ancient Runes book after he was finished with his last assignment when the rings on his right finger heated up and he actually jumped. He cursed and sent a fervent thanks that no one had been there to see him.

He packed away his things, took five minutes to change out of his school uniform into something more respectable and then rushed like hell from his fourth floor rooms to the outside grounds. He missed his first Portkey, but he had just enough time to wipe his sweaty brow and catch his breath before his second Portkey activated and he kept hold of his stomach as he took a measured step forward and took another and then another as his vision cleared and he could see the evening shift at the Ministry. It wasn’t as busy as it was during the mornings, but there were still a few people lingering around, unlike when he’d come here months before on the back of a thestral, in the dead of night, when it had been completely deserted.

 

“Excuse me, visitors need to present their wand and explain their business at the Ministry!” The security wizard shouted after him.

 

Harry stopped, turned and looked at the wizard who had chased after him.

 

“I am Lord Potter-Black and I am not a visitor. A Wizengamot meeting has been called and I need to get there as soon as possible, so if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting and debates to conduct that are no business of yours.”

 

Harry turned on his heel and strode towards the lifts, calling one and going to the second level, where the Wizengamot meeting room was.

He slipped into the room and smiled as he saw Lucius had been watching the door and he had been subtly observing him, even as he spoke to Xerxes, and Harry saw the approval in those steel grey eyes as they scanned him from head to foot, taking in his change of clothes, his brushed hair and his unflushed, non-sweaty face.

Harry slipped between the two men and smiled up at them both happily.

 

“You look far too happy to be here.” Xerxes groused gruffly. “I was contentedly relaxing with a glass of the finest, vintage Merlot with a book that I’ve been having trouble finding the time to actually sit down and read and then this, very late meeting was called.”  

 

“I was just finishing my last homework assignment. I was thinking of getting a cup of tea and breaking out my new Ancient Runes book when I felt my rings heat up.”

 

“Your last homework assignment?” Lucius questioned. “So you have finished all of them bar the one?”

 

Harry nodded. “I was just wrapping up my conclusion. I made a few hurried notes on a piece of scrap parchment so I know what my thought process was for when I arrive back at the castle and finish it off.”

 

“Good lad.” Xerxes praised him, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry only just managed to brace for it and keep his feet. “Basti misses you a lot, he hangs onto every word you write to him.”

 

It took Harry several moments to realise that Basti must have been Xerxes’ nickname for Rabastan, that of course he wouldn’t use his Grandson’s name in such a public place where any one of the Lords and Heads of Departments could overhear them and he grinned. He couldn’t wait to see Rabastan face to face and now he couldn’t wait to call him by his cute nickname. He did wonder exactly how long Rabastan had had a nickname like ‘Basti’ and he wondered if his Husband to be actually even liked it. He’d have to ask.

 

“I miss him a lot too. I can’t wait until I get home for the holidays.”

 

“Yes, your Father has graciously invited us into his home for the festivities. You and Basti can spend your time there together and reconnect with one another after your unavoidable separation, I’m sure.”

 

“They will have separate bedrooms.” Lucius interjected very sternly and even on the edge of rudeness and Harry had to hide his grin in his sleeve. That had sounded like, and had even felt like, something only a real Father would say and Harry’s heart swelled with joy and devotion. He would never willingly give up this feeling of love and belonging. Never.

 

“Of course, Lucius! I would never dream of forcing such an issue between the boys when they are so newly acquainted. That will come much further down the line, when they are both ready for it.”

 

Lucius nodded his head tightly and he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder and steered him to a chair. Harry grinned harder into the sleeve of his robes for a few moments more before he composed himself and reined in his face splitting grin.

He settled himself in the large, comfortable chair and folded his hands in his lap, waiting for the Chief Warlock to call the meeting to order while he silently observed everyone else in the room. Despite the harsh words exchanged and the tension between them, Xerxes still sat on Harry’s other side, but he pointedly looked in the other direction to Lucius, who was sitting stiffly on his other side. Harry found the whole thing rather hilarious.

 

“Lords and ladies, if I could call you to order.” Albert Runcorn said just a little bit louder than the ambient noise in the room.

 

There was no rush for chairs as men and women leisurely took a place at the table and settled themselves down in comfort before giving their full attention to their Chief Warlock.

 

“Chief Warlock, might I bring something to your attention before we proceed?” A woman asked primly.

 

“It is unusual, but I shall let your interruption stand, Madam Wilkes.”

 

“I just wanted to draw attention to the fact that it is ten O’clock at night and there is a sixteen year old in our midst on a school night.”

 

Harry looked at the frizzy haired witch, the same utter bitch who had voted against him when he’d been illegally given a full trial for a mere case of underaged magic, all thanks to Fudge. He really hated this woman.

 

“Pardon me?” Harry said in the stunned silence that followed. “I am a member of this Wizengamot. I hold two seats and regardless of what time it is, or on what night, I am required to be here despite my age. I would wholeheartedly suggest, Madam Wilkes, that you leave my business to me. I do not appreciate the input, least of all from the likes of you.”

 

The witch was blushing to the roots of her very frizzy hair and Harry felt more than he saw Lucius and Xerxes’ smirks. He got the feeling that they were both very happy with him and with how he’d conducted himself as well as what he’d just said.

 

“You may be able to talk the talk, Madam Wilkes, but you cannot walk the walk.” Albert Runcorn said spitefully. “Please refrain from making such ridiculous observations in this room. If you do not like the way that this Ministry is run, then kindly leave it. Perhaps then we might get down to why we have actually been called here.”

 

Harry had to hide his smile, especially when all he wanted to do was laugh. Some of the other members sniggered, but none of them laughed and neither Lucius nor Xerxes laughed or smiled, so Harry emulated them both and he kept himself composed and still. He promised himself that he would laugh about this later, once he was in private.

 

“Now, this emergency meeting has been called because a wizard in Kent has decided to go on a drunken traipse through a muggle city, firing off his wand and his mouth.” Runcorn sighed. “The Obliviators have already been called in, but there is no telling how many people overheard him or who they told in turn, but the Obliviators have done their jobs as best as they can and the wizard in question is in custody.”

 

“This is completely unacceptable!” One of the Lords burst out, his face already reddening. “These were no secret affairs or bastard children that he was spilling, none of the information was personal to himself. These secrets affect us all, could endanger us all!”

 

“The man was drunk…”

 

“It shouldn’t matter if he was drunk or not!” Another Lord burst out, a vein throbbing in his neck. “This is a serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy! This imbecile should be held fully accountable for his actions!”

 

“I fully agree! Alcohol abuse should not rule him out of answerability of this heinous crime!”

 

Harry sat and he listened intently. This debate could go one of two ways and it was all down to the Wizengamot and which way they voted that would determine the future of the wizard in question. It took hours upon hours of back and forth debating, some insisting that as alcohol lowered inhibitions that the man couldn’t be held accountable for his actions, but others were adamant that despite how intoxicated the man was that he should still be held responsible for his actions and for the danger that they had put the entire wizarding world in. Harry was getting incredibly tired and slightly irritable as the same arguments were repeated over and over, being slightly reworded each time, yet no one was giving a definitive opinion or solution to the problem.

 

“Does anyone else have an opinion that they would like to share?” Runcorn asked, wide awake and still alert and sat stiff backed in his chair, despite how long this meeting had already taken.

 

“He had drunk two full bottles of vintage Firewhiskey, he could barely walk in a straight line. The Muggles have been Obliviated, I say that we let Mister Jute sober up, pay a fine and then we let this matter go.”

 

“I disagree.” Harry said softly, he was very tired and he couldn’t help feeling nervous as everyone turned to stare at him. This was the first time that he was expressing an opinion on this matter, a matter that was very much in the grey area of the law and neither Lucius nor Xerxes had said anything in this meeting yet either. “This is a very serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy and it cannot be brushed off with a mere fine and a slap on the wrist. Perhaps if he hadn’t been firing off spells as well as shouting the odds about the wizarding world. The latter could be explained away as his alcoholism, or even mental health issues, the former cannot be ignored nor rationalised as the ramblings of a drunken fool. He damaged six cars, several buildings and two people. The DMLE had to wipe out footage from over a hundred surveillance cameras and they had to fix so much damage before any more Muggles saw them and had to be Obliviated on top of the thirty-nine Muggles who had already been Obliviated because of this matter. The two people who were hit with his spells are still in Saint Mungos and they’re not only being treated magically, but they are scared and have no clue what is going on, which could possibly cause deep psychological trauma that could reoccur given the right trigger. This cannot be brushed under the carpet and vintage Firewhiskey or not, this man had the responsibility of protecting the Statute of Secrecy. The same responsibility that each and every single one of us have to our world! This is our secret to keep and Mister Jute should have known better than to go drinking Firewhiskey in a Muggle city. He should not be excused from his serious lack of judgement. My vote is for this matter to be put to the Minister and to trial. My vote is for Azkaban.”

 

“You cannot be serious!” One wizard exploded.

 

“I knew you were just a child!” Another shouted out. “A mere child playing at being a man. You shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be allowed two votes in such serious, adult matters!”

 

Harry held himself still and stoic, he forced himself not to react, but inside he was a quivering wreck at being confronted in such a way. Having his opinion ripped to pieces and scrutinised and then ultimately being told that he was wrong, that his thoughts and opinions were wrong and didn’t matter because of his age knocked all of his confidence. It had him running through everything that he had heard tonight and everything that he had said, questioning everything, thinking back to all of the books that he’d read, all of the things that Lucius, and even Xerxes, had taught him and he pulled into himself as he realised that perhaps he hadn’t been ready to voice his opinion on grey areas as much as he’d thought he was.

 

“Are you going to sink so low as to pull Lord Potter-Black’s age into this matter once more just to try and gain precedence for your own opinion?”

 

Harry looked to the Lord Shacklebolt, and seriously hadn’t that been a massive surprise, and he took a calming breath as his words sunk in and he realised what was actually going on. This was all politics. He hadn’t done or said anything wrong at all, those bastards had just been trying to make him, and everyone else, think that he’d said something wrong in order to push their own points of view across to the Wizengamot. The fucking underhanded bastards.

 

“I actually agree with the Lord Potter-Black.” Dawson Shacklebolt continued. “This idiot should not be excused from the crime he committed because he couldn’t handle his Firewhiskey. He endangered us all, he endangered the Muggles and even hospitalised two of them. I agree fully with Lord Potter-Black, this matter should be taken to trial, the Minister should be briefed and Mister Jute should face Azkaban over this matter.”

 

The meeting room exploded into angry shouts and arguments and Harry took a moment to catch his breath, which he hadn’t even realised that he’d been holding as Shacklebolt had been speaking and he took a tiny glace to either side of himself, even though he had tried not to show such insecurity, seeking reassurance that he hadn’t embarrassed either man. That he hadn’t embarrassed his family.

Both men caught his tiny little glance and reacted accordingly. Lucius squeezed his knee gently and Xerxes touched his back with a slight touch of his fingertips.

 

“You did brilliantly.” Lucius told him in the merest whisper as he watched interestedly as Madam Amelia Bones jumped into the argument.

 

“Better than brilliant. You were completely ruthless and I love it. You certainly are coming into your own. Basti will be so very proud and pleased when I tell him. But before that, let’s wrap this up, Lucius. I’m not a young man anymore, I need my sleep and I’m sure that Harry needs his sleep too.”

 

“This meeting has taken a lot longer than I thought it would. It’s gone midnight and I do have lessons tomorrow.”

 

“Then let us pass judgement on this meeting.” Lucius said before turning back to the room. “I motion that we vote now.” He said loudly, cutting across the arguing and the shouting. “I vote in favour of Lord Potter-Black’s proposal.”

 

“As do I.” Dawson Shacklebolt said fiercely.

 

“I put my vote in favour of a fine!” One of the Heads of Department raged.

 

“My vote goes in favour of Lord Potter-Black.” Xerxes said calmly.

 

Harry had to bite his lip to stop his internal grin from showing on his face when the Wizengamot voted in his favour forty-one to just eleven. With business concluded, several members immediately stormed out and Harry rose himself. He gracefully and modestly accepted the handshakes and congratulations on his conduct in the meeting, but he soon excused himself, taking Lucius and Xerxes with him. He was just too tired to stay much longer and now that official business had been concluded and they had to wait for a date for the trial which would include the Minister himself to be set, he was flagging and he seriously needed his bed.

 

“Come, we need to get you home.” Lucius told him.

 

“But it’s a school night and I have to get back to the school.” He said, trying to supress a massive yawn and almost walking into a wall because of it.

 

“Not tonight. I will bring you home with me tonight and you can floo over to the school tomorrow morning with ample time to make your lessons.”

 

Harry nodded, too tired to argue He just wanted a bed and at the moment, any bed would do.

 

“He is almost completely out of it, Lucius.” Xerxes chuckled. “Perhaps you should carry him.”

 

“‘M not that tired.”  

 

“Oh, he’s slurring his words now too.” Xerxes laughed. “I’m too old to be out past midnight and he’s too young.”

 

“I still look better though.” Harry laughed and Xerxes harrumphed.

 

Lucius chuckled as they made it to the far side of the deserted Atrium and he said a pleasant goodnight to Xerxes, waited for Harry do the same, before wrapping an arm around Harry’s back and Apparating them to Malfoy Manor.

Harry barely remembered the walk up the stairs as he was shoved gently into his room and Lucius said goodnight to him.

Harry only just had the presence of mind to strip himself down, pull on a spare pair of pyjamas from his dresser and crawl into bed. It took him a few minutes to wind his mind down after the last few hours of heavy debating, but he did manage to remember to have a sleepy chuckle over the frizzy haired bitch, Madam Wilkes. That was proper payback for what she’d done to him in the summer between his fourth and fifth years. He didn’t remember much after that, he remembered chuckling into his pillow and then the next, he was fast asleep, his exhausted body and mind dead to the world.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was forced awake a mere five hours later at just six O’clock in the morning and it was with a lot of grumbling and curses that he climbed in and out of the shower within fifteen minutes and got himself dressed in his cleaned and pressed school uniform. The robes that he’d worn to the Wizengamot meeting were also cleaned and pressed and were hanging up on the door of his, admittedly very large, wardrobe.

He felt slow and sluggish as he stumbled his way down to the family dining room and met Lucius and Narcissa, who were both up, showered and impeccably dressed, talking to one another over their half-eaten breakfasts.

 

Narcissa chuckled lightly. “Oh, well you look like you’ve been trampled by the Hippogriff.”

 

“It dug its talons in on the way past and grinded me into the floor with its heels too.” Harry replied grumpily.

 

Lucius laughed at him as his large, slender hands cupped the mug that he was drinking from. From the smell of the contents it was incredibly strong coffee, which was unusual enough as it was seeing as Lucius never drank coffee.

 

“I prefer to drink coffee after late nights.” Lucius told him when he caught Harry’s confused, suspicious look. “I find that it gives me the kick I need to convince my body to wake up and get moving.”

 

Harry laughed at that, properly laughed and he sat smiling as a plate of bacon and eggs was brought out for him by a house elf along with a side plate of toast and a bowl of fruit salad. He thanked the little elf and made himself a mug of strong coffee, hoping it helped him as much as it seemed to help Lucius as he started eating his large breakfast. This was something that he enjoyed too, regular meals. He didn’t have to pace himself because he’d been starved over the summer, he didn’t have to watch out for who came into the room and he didn’t have to worry about having his meals snatched from him on a whim.

 

“I’m told that you conducted yourself wonderfully well in the emergency meeting.” Narcissa told him and Harry chewed, swallowed and then smiled.

 

He nodded his head as he looked to Lucius with a grin. “I did have an attack of nerves and I started second guessing myself, but I should have known that it was all politics.”

 

“He conducted himself brilliantly, Dear. Even Dawson Shacklebolt agreed with his eloquently presented opinion. I am very proud of you and I am proud to call you my son. That Halfblood deserved Azkaban. Imagine firing off spells in a Muggle city, putting us all in danger.”

 

Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe that anyone would be that stupid and I will not accept lack of judgement as an excuse just because the imbecile thought that it was a good idea to drink two bottles of Firewhiskey before going out into the Muggle world. No, alcohol or not, he should be held accountable for his actions. Let him off with a fine and a warning.” He scoffed. “What a joke, I was trying to save my fat cousin from Dementors and they wanted to expel me from school for trying to save him! There was no way that I was going to let that slide.”

 

“I actually agree with you.” Lucius told him. “Believe it or not I was livid with Fudge for holding a full Wizengamot trial, minus the Lords of course, as none of them would have accepted such a misconduct, for a mere case of underaged magic. I told him so too.”

 

Harry smiled. He liked hearing these little things, small truths that proved that Lucius was not the bastard that everyone had always made him out to be. He’d assumed when he’d seen Lucius talking to Fudge after his trial that he was trying to find out the outcome of the trial and if he’d been expelled or not. He’d had no idea that Lucius, as Lord Malfoy, was actually a member of the Wizengamot and should have been told about his trial and should have been present for it. All of that had only come out recently.

Harry finished his breakfast and he stayed sitting and he sipped at his coffee delicately. He still wasn’t used to the taste and this cup was a lot stronger than he’d tried thus far, but it was still a nice coffee. Then again Lucius had bought it, so it was likely going to be the best coffee that Galleons could buy.

He was feeling a little more awake and a little more lively, but he still could have done with another hour, or several, in bed. That meeting had gone on for much longer than he’d ever expected, but then it hadn’t really been a clear cut, black or white decision like the other meetings he’d been called to had been.

It had been an easy decision to make for him because the way he’d seen it had been very clear in his mind, but naturally others had disagreed with him and thus they’d spent half the night debating back and forth.

 

“I woke you so early because I wished to speak with you before you went back to school.”

 

Harry nodded, though he had to wonder what this was about. He had the sinking feeling that it was going to be about the Dursleys and not about the meeting they’d just had last night or anything about Rabastan.

He was actually nervous as he made his way to Lucius’ study and he took a seat with Lucius on the other side of the sturdy desk.

 

“I believe that I’m right in thinking that you already have an inkling of why we’re having this little talk, am I correct?”

 

Harry nodded glumly. Lucius sighed.

 

“What have I taught you about using gestures instead of actual words?”

 

Harry grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m a little slow this morning.”

 

“I will let it slide for today only then, as a reward for your impeccable conduct last night. Now, onto more serious matters. I’ve been hoping for a chance to sit you down and ask about your childhood since your letter arrived at the beginning of September, would you like to explain it to me?”

 

Harry chewed on his lip and averted his gaze for long moments before he lifted his head and caught Lucius steel grey gaze for a moment. “I don’t know where to begin.” He said a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

 

“Start from the earliest memory you have of this type of behaviour, even if it is something small.” Lucius encouraged.

 

Harry’s face screwed up as he thought about it. He shook his head and fell back into his old habit of nibbling his lip and the inside of his cheeks.

 

“I suppose I was about four. They’ve always looked down on me and sneered and belittled me, that was nothing new. Dudley pinched and kicked me whenever he could, but he was only a few months older than me and I fully believe that it should have been Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon who should have stopped that before it escalated, but they didn’t care. They always turned a blind eye where Dudley and his behaviour were concerned. I learned early on that I was different, that I wasn’t the same as them. Nothing compounded that to me more than when Dudley caught me off guard and hit my nose really hard. It was a snap minute decision, I don’t think I even thought about it, I was angry, I was in pain, my nose was throbbing and my eyes were watering from the pain. I hit him back.”

 

Harry fell quiet as he remembered that day. How he could clearly remember certain things, but other, more inconsequential things were blurry or lost. He could remember the pain of Dudley catching his nose as if it had only just happened, he could remember where they were both standing and exactly what had happened, but he couldn’t recall the colour of his shirt or what day of the week it was. He couldn’t remember if it was sunny, but he did know that it wasn’t raining.

 

“What happened?” Lucius prompted.

 

“He ran to Aunt Petunia, she told Uncle Vernon and…and that was the first time that I was smacked.”

 

“Don’t refer to those people as your family members. They are not.” Lucius told him mildly. “You are a part of the Malfoy family now. Can you remember where you were hit?”

 

Harry sighed loudly. “My hand. He took my hand and he smacked it as hard as he could before he hit the side of my head and he threw me…he threw me in the cupboard under the stairs.”

 

“Did he throw you into this cupboard often?” Lucius asked.

 

Harry nodded. “It was where I slept when I was younger.”

 

“Pardon me?” Lucius asked in his softest, most deadliest of voices.

 

“I slept in the cupboard.” Harry said a bit breathlessly. He could feel the icy anger inside of him being stirred awake, like an uncoiling snake that was being prodded with a stick.

 

“Draco mentioned a bedroom. He said that you had mentioned a bedroom with bars over your window.”

 

“That was after.” Harry told him, trying to calm himself. “It was after I’d gotten my Hogwarts letter. It was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs and it worried them, they thought that wizards were watching the house. So…so they told me to move all of my things upstairs, into Dudley’s second bedroom.”

 

“Your cousin had two bedrooms?” Lucius asked, those eyes glinting like a knife edge.

 

Harry nodded. “It was a four bedroomed house. My Aunt…Petunia and Vernon shared a room, Dudley had two rooms and one was a guest room.”

 

“Those vile muggles had a four bedroomed house, two of which were free for you to use and you slept in a cupboard?”

 

Harry nodded. “They did it to punish me. To prove to me, even at that young age, that I was nothing. That I wasn’t worth anything to them or anyone else. They told me lies about my parents and how they’d died as worthless nobodies. They actually told me that my Dad had killed my Mum because he was drunk and that that was how I’d been left with the Dursleys. Orphaned and left over night on their doorstep like a bag of rubbish.” Harry took in a deep breath and calmed himself. “They never wanted me, I was nothing to them and they made sure that I knew it too.”

 

“Did you hate them even then?”

 

Harry considered the question seriously. “I think I did, but in my young naivety, I wanted to change their mind about me. I wanted them to like me, love me even, as they did their own son. I pushed myself so hard, I forced myself to complete all the tasks they set for me every day, convincing myself all the while that if I did, then they would love me. They never did. I was maybe thirteen before I stopped caring, though I was eight or nine when I realised that nothing I did would ever be good enough for them. That I would never be good enough. I still wanted them to like me, but I knew that they never would. I could become a self-made millionaire or a world hero tomorrow and they’d still see me as nothing. As the little boy they beat, starved, trod on and locked up like an animal and I will never forgive them for that.”

 

“I don’t think anyone would expect you to forgive them for that, Harry. I certainly don’t.” Lucius assured him.

 

“It’s difficult for me to speak of any of this. I never…it’s not something that I ever wanted anyone to know.” Harry said quietly.

 

“I understand that, but I need you to speak of this, Harry. I need to know what has happened in order to help you.”

 

“I think I’m dealing with it alright.” He muttered defensively.

 

“Don’t grumble into your chest, if you have something to say, look up and say it clearly.”

 

Harry sighed heavily. “I think I’m doing okay. I mean, I’m not completely messed up, am I?”

 

He hated that his supposed statement turned into a question at the end and he threw his head back against the chair, furious with himself.

 

“You’re not messed up. You’re surprisingly level headed and pulled together, but there is no doubt that you have suffered and that you are still suffering because of their treatment of you. This anger of yours is perhaps a very good indicator that something isn’t right. You’ve become desensitised to pain and fear because when you live with either for as long as you have, you learn to deal with it in any way that you can, which might not be the healthiest or the best way of dealing with such things, but you learnt to cope. You got yourself through this ordeal and you are perfectly functional, I believe that you have lingering damage from those people still, but you are not messed up.”

 

Harry felt oddly reassured that Lucius didn’t think that he was messed up and he relaxed a little from his tense, defensive stance.

 

“Now, if the physical abuse started when you were four and the mental abuse has been going on for as long as you can remember, it is my belief that you may need to see a medical professional so that they might evaluate yourself and help you to deal with anything that might need to be dealt with.”

 

“No.” Harry said immediately and stubbornly. “I don’t need any Healer poking around and asking questions about what happened in my past. Do you know how hard it was for me to open up to you about these things after the short amount of time we’ve known one another and especially after our own past? How do you expect me to tell actual strangers?” Harry demanded angrily.

 

Lucius sighed. “I am not a Healer, Harry. I am not qualified to actually help you in a way that will… _unburden_ you of this life time of suffering. If I draw up a solid contract that a highly paid, trusted mind Healer would be required to sign before anything is even revealed to them, would that be more of a comfort to you and reassure you a little more that this is not intended to harm you in any way?”

 

Harry scowled and he felt like pouting, or doing a repeat of the end of his fifth year when he’d smashed up all of Dumbledore’s spindly, delicate little trinkets. He had the feeling that Lucius would not sit still and just watch as Harry raged around and trashed his study though.

 

“Harry? This needs to be sorted out. This could be an issue that will affect your betrothal.”

 

Harry’s head snapped up and he stared at Lucius in teeth clenching anger and disgust.

 

“You would use my betrothal against me to get what you want?” He demanded icily.

 

“Me? No. You’ve misunderstood, Harry. I wouldn’t use this against your betrothal. It is in my interests to marry you into such an old, rich and influential Pureblood family such as the Lestranges. If Xerxes finds out and realises that you’re not even having an evaluation when he is pushing Rabastan through all sorts in order to help him recover that little bit faster for the betrothal between you, then he might feel aggrieved and like our family is just mocking his. If anyone is to break the contract between you it’ll be Xerxes or Rhadamanthus, despite the fact that Rabastan is an almost forty year old man, he is not in the best of health and he therefore cannot conduct his own betrothal. His Grandfather is doing it for him and as his actual Father, even Rhadamanthus, despite not being the recipient of the formal contract or the Head of the family, can break the contract if he has a good enough reason. You being potentially mentally or emotionally unstable when Rabastan is in a _vulnerable_ condition would be just the reason Rhadamanthus would be looking for as I don’t believe for a moment that you haven’t realised that he isn’t particularly fond of you or the budding relationship between you and his youngest son.”

 

Harry was fuming. He was being backed into a corner and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want anyone messing around with his head or trying to tell him how he was feeling or why. He already knew that he hated the Dursleys and would never forgive them and he knew how he was feeling. That was all there was to it. He didn’t want anyone telling him that in order to move on he had to forgive those people for how they had treated him or telling him that he needed to let go. He didn’t fucking want to!

Yet he didn’t want to lose Rabastan over something so simple and trivial either. He didn’t think Xerxes would break the contract over this apparent ‘issue’, but he had no doubts that Rhadamanthus would delight in breaking the contract between him and Rabastan, even over something so ridiculously small.

He seriously hated that man and he wanted to curse him until he wasn’t a threat to him or to Rabastan anymore. He saw it in those oddly pale, cruel eyes, Rhadamanthus would do anything to hurt Rabastan, even if it ended up killing him in the process. He wanted Rabastan to suffer and with the betrothal between them, Rabastan was getting fitter, healthier, better and Rhadamanthus didn’t like it.

He needed to do his all to help Rabastan. If they were married, then Rhadamanthus would have no legal or otherwise claim on Rabastan as he would be considered his own man, even if he still lived at home. If they were married then they would start a main branch of the Lestrange family and Rhadamanthus couldn’t do anything to make his son suffer because Harry would be there and he would absolutely not allow anyone to harm is own Husband, especially not his own supposed Father-in-law. He needed to do this, he needed to protect Rabastan.

 

“I’ll do it.” He told Lucius softly. “Just make sure that it remains quiet. The last thing I want or need is for the entire wizarding world to find out that I’m seeing a mind Healer, especially after the articles everyone read about me last year in the Prophet.”

 

Lucius nodded and Harry all but tuned out the rest of the conversation, he answered on automatic as his chaotic thoughts whizzed around his head, distracting him from giving Lucius his full, undivided attention. He was thankfully excused only a little while later so he could floo back to Hogwarts. He chose to use McGonagall’s fireplace rather than Dumbledore’s. He had a lot to think about and he didn’t feel like being questioned incessantly this morning.

He just simply explained about the Wizengamot meeting to a slightly startled Professor McGonagall, informed her that it had run very late into the night so that he had spent the rest of the night at home and then he was free to go to his rooms.

Rhadamanthus was an even bigger threat than he’d believed him to be. Foolishly…incredibly fucking foolishly, he’d underestimated the man. He didn’t know why, he knew that the Lestranges were all dark wizards, he knew what they had done as a family and he knew they were loyal to the Dark Lord. Why had he believed that Rhadamanthus wouldn’t use lethal force to get what he wanted, which was apparently Rabastan’s suffering and eventual death?

Harry wouldn’t allow it. Rabastan was his betrothed, was his Husband to be and was his to love and protect and he did…love him that was. He did and he would not allow anything to happen to the man that he was only just coming to love. He wouldn’t lose Rabastan so soon, he would protect him and they would love one another and they would have a life together. They would be married, they would be a family and they would have children together.

Harry’s back straightened from where he’d been bent over, gathering his needed text books and the required homework that he needed for today’s lessons into his backpack that already had a hard case with his quills and ink inside it.

Would Rhadamanthus dare to harm his and Rabastan’s children? Harry swallowed painfully as he realised that he would, especially if the baby was a girl, because it would hurt Rabastan and make him suffer more and Rhadamanthus was hell bent on making Rabastan suffer.

Harry’s fists clenched tight until his fingers hurt. He was breathing too fast and his head started to spin, but all he could see was Rhadamanthus laughing uproariously as he held the broken body of a faceless infant in his huge hands.

He was almost hyperventilating when he came to his concluding thought. It had been a half thought up plan…something that he had wanted to do, to protect Rabastan more than anything, even if it would make his life so much easier as well, yet he had put it to the back of his mind, because he had underestimated the twisted, warped mind of Rhadamanthus Lestrange.

But now he needed to plan more thoroughly, he needed to do this, not just for Rabastan, but because he had no doubt that Rhadamanthus would target their children as a way to further hurt Rabastan. He could not ever allow that to happen. He was coming to love Rabastan, he would assuredly love him when they married, but his children were his children and he could not, would not, ever allow anything to happen to them. He had to kill Rhadamanthus Lestrange and it had to be done before he and Rabastan were married.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy New Year, lovelies! I hope that you’re all alright and that you continue to be safe and well in this year now.  
> I know some of you have complained that I repeat myself a lot. I can’t help this as the points I’m repeating are ones that I want to instil in you readers more than any others and not just that, but the points I’m repeating are often ones that some readers have been unable to grasp and thus are confused about, so I repeat them. And then finally I repeat myself because it’s been weeks since I’ve updated or read through the previous chapters and I’ve just forgotten that I’ve mentioned it, so I mention it again. Of course I’m going to mention Harry’s anguish and confusion over everything that’s happening in his life. I will mention over and over Rabastan’s condition after Azkaban. I will mention how little he trusts Dumbledore and how confused he is with his budding trust with Draco and Lucius. They are important points of the story and I want to make sure that they are being brought across correctly to all readers, not just those who grasp it very quickly and understand immediately.
> 
> Now, I believe that that is all, I hope that you’ve all enjoyed the chapter and the start to your New Year’s. I’ll be taking a ‘break’ from this fic now that it’s up to six chapters and I’ll be turning my focus back to The Rise of the Drackens for a bit. It won’t be more than a month or two until the next chapter, but I’ve kept the Dracken readers waiting long enough while I focus on this story, so I’ll be seeing you lovelies in a month or so, until then,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	7. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> He was almost hyperventilating when he came to his concluding thought. It had been a half thought up plan…something that he had wanted to do, to protect Rabastan more than anything, even if it would make his life so much easier as well, yet he had put it to the back of his mind, because he had underestimated the twisted, warped mind of Rhadamanthus Lestrange.  
> But now he needed to plan more thoroughly, he needed to do this, not just for Rabastan, but because he had no doubt that Rhadamanthus would target their children as a way to further hurt Rabastan. He could not ever allow that to happen. He was coming to love Rabastan, he would assuredly love him when they married, but his children were his children and he could not, would not, ever allow anything to happen to them. He had to kill Rhadamanthus Lestrange and it had to be done before he and Rabastan were married.

 

Chapter Seven – Plans

 

Harry didn’t know what was more annoying for him really. It was a tossup of Dumbledore continuously trying to get him alone in his office to talk, the pathetic, second year level ‘prank’ attempts by his ex-house mates or trying to find a way that he could kill a man without drawing the suspicions of any of the students or the Professors onto him first.

Naturally as his friend and brother, he had told Draco what he was planning to do about Rhadamanthus, but no one else. Not even Blaise, who knew something was going on, but also knew enough not to pry into his personal business.

Draco had been stunned and a little fearful that he was deadly serious about going through with this idea, the blond was very…squeamish for a supposed dark wizard, but Harry definitely didn’t hold it against him. After all, he himself had turned out to be very dark for a supposed light wizard.

He rationalised that everyone was different, that everyone had their own thoughts and opinions regardless of which family, or which side, they had been born on. After all, Sirius was a prime example of that, he had been so against his family and the stigma of supposed ‘dark’ wizards that he had actually run away from his own family while still a minor.

He had to wonder though how much of Sirius’ passionate hate had been a fear or disgust at the allegedly ‘dark’ magic and how much of it was actually Walburga Black’s fault. According to Sirius’ stories and dark reminiscing, she had hated him long before he had stepped foot in Hogwarts and she had liked playing favourites between her two sons, setting one against the other in a destructive, vile game for her own amusement. Harry was glad that she was already dead.

Today was the first day of the Christmas holidays, they had finished all of their lessons for the year the day before and Harry had eaten just a few pieces of toast for breakfast as he scribbled furiously on a spare piece of parchment. He checked over his information and rearranged the order of words to make it sound more sophisticated and intelligent before he transferred his words to the piece of parchment that held the finalised piece of homework that he would hand in to his Professor when the term started up again in January.

 

“Come on, Harry. We won’t find an empty compartment if we don’t leave now.”

 

Harry startled and looked up at Draco who had spoken, Blaise was stood at the doors waiting for them. The words filtered into his brain before he nodded and quickly packed up his books, ink and all of his rolls of parchment before he leapt up and caught up to Draco, who was already out in the Entrance Hall.

They still ended up waiting for Blaise, who had cursed halfway to the grounds outside and declared that he’d left his Mother’s gift on his bedside table that morning. Draco had climbed regally into the front carriage to wait for Blaise to return, but Harry went to see the thestral pulling it.

Skeletal and bony thin, in a way it reminded him of Rabastan and Harry felt sick for thinking such things as he stroked his hand gently over the thestral’s reptilian face. He was just nervous about seeing Rabastan again for the first time in four months later on that night, that was all. Of course he was going to be nervous of such things, he hardly knew what to expect and all of the Lestranges were going to be there. It was a very nerve wracking experience.

Pansy and Daphne greeted him and he nodded to them both cordially as they climbed into the carriage with Draco and Harry clenched his fist when he caught sight of Theodore Nott, who was walking with a few older Slytherins just behind, sigh heavily and turn away from where his betrothed had just been stood. He looked crestfallen and Harry just didn’t understand why he put up with Daphne’s behaviour. Harry liked Theodore Nott and they’d had a few conversations over the last term. He was a well put together, level headed person and he was definitely going to do well once he graduated from Hogwarts. He just didn’t understand why he wanted Daphne so much or why he put up with her vile, disrespectful behaviour.

He watched as Theodore and the other Slytherins climbed into another carriage and Harry went back to the thestral. He couldn’t imagine holding such an unrequited love. The cruel thing was that they were betrothed and were going to marry one another one day. Theodore loved her and he was going to marry the woman that he loved, but that love was not reciprocated, not even a little bit and he knew it. Theodore had to live a lie, knowing that his Wife had slept with anyone and everyone while they were betrothed and that she didn’t respect or care at all for him and his happiness or his status. He would never be strong enough to do something like that, Harry was well known for his temper and he knew that if his betrothed acted like Daphne, if Rabastan acted like her, then he would have thrown a fit and torn up their contract, no matter how much it would have hurt himself to do so. He would not let himself be treated in such a way.

 

“Got it!” Blaise exclaimed happily, red cheeked, panting and out of breath, but he waved the small box with a grin on his face.

 

“Come on then.” Harry said with a smile, pushing all the thoughts of Daphne and Theodore from his mind.

 

The both of them climbed into the carriage and Draco waved his wand impatiently to set them off towards Hogsmeade. He had a part grimace, part sneer on his face and Harry hid a smirk as he realised that he had been stuck in the carriage waiting for Blaise to get back with just Pansy and Daphne for company. No wonder he was a bit bad tempered.

The ride was slow paced, but quiet as no one felt the need to talk while they were moving and they found themselves at the station in Hogsmeade quickly enough. They grabbed a hold of their trunks and owl cages and moved so that they could climb aboard the scarlet Hogwarts Express and find an empty compartment for themselves before the majority of the students joined them.

Harry went first and he purposefully picked a compartment near the front as it would be quieter than any of the compartments near the back of the train. He planned to do as much homework as he possibly could while he was on the train so that he could spend the majority of the Christmas holidays with Rabastan, who was already settled into Malfoy Manor waiting for him.

He was oddly nervous about the whole thing as he set up his books, parchment, quill and ink pot on the small half table in the compartment. He hadn’t actually seen Rabastan since the end of August even though they’d corresponded through letters and gifts. His belly was knotted and his heart was racing and he felt a little light headed. He couldn’t actually believe that he had faced off against Voldemort and his Death Eaters numerous times in the past, had held off over a hundred Dementors, survived with the Dursleys, competed in the Tri-wizard tournament and killed a sixty foot basilisk at twelve years old and Professor Quirinus Quirrell when he was just eleven and he was really this nervous about going home and coming face to face with Rabastan for the first time in four months. It was laughable.

He blocked out Draco and Blaise who were laughing and chatting directly opposite him and he ignored the two girls who were sat either side of the door giggling at something they were talking about. The seat next to him was empty of people, but he’d filled it with his text books. He was determined to get all of his work done.

It was harder to block out the rest of the students when they started arriving in droves and filling up the rest of the train, but Harry tried his utmost best as he scribbled on his scrap parchment before carefully quilling each letter onto his actual piece of homework.

It took an hour before the shrill whistle had some younger students, and even a few immature older students, cheering. Harry pulled his hand away from his work and held his inkpot a moment before the train lurched forward to prevent it from spilling and from then on, every moment would bring him ever closer to Rabastan.

Once the train had settled at a constant speed and stopped lurching about, Harry went back to his work and only stopped once the trolley witch came around at lunch time. He bought two bottles of pumpkin juice, some pumpkin pasties and some cauldron cakes to nibble on, but happily accepted when Blaise asked to swap a chocolate frog for a cauldron cake.

He quickly dived back into his homework as the rest of the compartment talked, joked and laughed. He didn’t join them. He had to get his homework done otherwise his entire night had been wasted and he wouldn’t achieve what he’d wanted when he’d first started.

 

“You’re very quiet.” Daphne Greengrass told him as the four Slytherins exhausted their topics of conversation for the moment and had lapsed into silence.

 

Harry looked at her and bit his tongue at the immediate urge to scream at her. He hadn’t had much to do with Daphne since the start of term, he mostly stayed with Draco and Blaise, but he’d had a bit of interaction with some of the other Slytherins outside of them too, mostly Daphne, Pansy and Theodore Nott. Harry liked the unusually quiet Slytherin and every time he’d caught sight of Daphne flirting with yet another boy, he’d felt angry on Theodore’s behalf. He didn’t deserve such disrespect and humiliation from his own betrothed.

Despite not having much interaction with the other Slytherins, however, we was still kept well informed of the latest gossip through Draco, who was very, very gossipy. Daphne had been shamelessly loud and vocal in bed with a Slytherin fifth year the last he’d heard and the entire of Slytherin house knew of it and still Theodore Nott thought the sun shined out of her arse.

He was sure that she was only sleeping with other people now because she knew that she could get away with it. Of course it was Theodore’s fault as well, he should have given himself a bit more dignity and self-respect. He didn’t deserve to be betrothed to someone who would sleep with anything just because they could get away with it, whether he was madly in love with her or not. Harry wouldn’t even dream of disrespecting Rabastan in such a way. Then he supposed that that was the difference between a betrothal of convenience and a betrothal where those involved actually felt attracted to one another and were coming to love one another.

 

“I’m just thinking.” He replied to her quietly. “You might want to try it occasionally.”

 

The rest of the compartment laughed at her, because that was what Slytherins did. As soon as one was singled out and belittled, they compounded that fact by joining in, even if it was just laughing at others misfortune.

The hat might have been right in a way, he had the ambition and ruthlessness that suited Slytherin house and he would have done well there, but he ultimately failed at being a Slytherin because they were like a pack of ravenous jackals. Any sign or the merest hint of weakness and they leapt upon it, made it worse and drew everyone else’s attention to it just to make themselves look better by comparison. He just couldn’t do that. 

Harry sighed before he stood up on the seat and dug in his open trunk, up in the trunk rack, for his Herbology text book so he could sort out the piece of homework that he was currently working on. He’d done most of his homework last night, staying up as long as he possibly could so that he could knock off several assignments. He’d used his head and he’d done all of his hardest essays first, while he was still at the school and able to take advantage of the library and the Professors. He’d then done his easier essays. The written essays took up the longest amount of time after all. Doing that had left him with just a couple question sheets to answer, a translation for Ancient Runes and several calculations for Arithmancy along with his Defence assignments and a piece of homework that he couldn’t actually complete yet as he had to observe the night sky twice a week over the holidays and note down the positions of the planets and the meaning of their positions for Astrology.

 

“Why are you doing your homework now, we’re on holiday!” Blaise told him, looking at him as if he were completely mad.

 

“You might not have heard, but my betrothed is staying over for the holidays. I don’t want to waste time that I could be spending with him on homework.” Harry said simply as he flipped open his Herbology text book and set about answering the questions that Professor Sprout had set them. They were quite simple to answer as the text book told him everything that he needed to know. He just had to embellish the clinical information that he read to give an answer that didn’t look like he’d just copied it straight from the book. His scrap parchment came in very handy for doing that perfectly.

 

“Don’t remind me.” Daphne sighed grumpily. “I’m staying over the Nott’s manor for Christmas this year. My parents think that I’m old enough now to spend the holidays with him alone, so they won’t be there. It’s completely ruined my holidays, I don’t want to spend Christmas with him or his family! I’m going to use my homework as an excuse to get away from him as much as I can.”

 

“You should count yourself lucky that you even have a betrothal still.” Harry told her through gritted teeth, unable to continue holding his tongue when she spoke so candidly about avoiding her own betrothal partner. Especially when he knew that Theodore was looking forward to spending the time with her and was excited to spend the whole of the Christmas holidays with the woman he loved. It made him so mad, more particularly because he himself was doing his absolute all just to ensure that he and Rabastan spent as much time together as possible during the holidays.

 

“Just because you’re happy with your match doesn’t mean that everyone else is.” Daphne snapped back.

 

“If you’re not happy with your match then break the contract yourself and find someone else, because absolutely no one deserves to be disrespected in such a way.” Harry answered, his voice rising a touch as his anger was stirred.

 

“It would be a different story if your betrothed was doing the same as…”

 

“If I _ever_ found out that Rabastan was so much as entertaining the thought of being with another person while we were betrothed together then I’d break our contract faster than he could think to apologise for his disgusting behaviour.” Harry spoke over her, his eyes hard and cold at the very thought of Rabastan sleeping around with other people. “I deserve better than someone who would treat me so appallingly, just as Theodore deserves someone better than you and if our situations were the same and I were doing that shameful act behind Rabastan’s back, then I would most definitely expect him to throw me out on my arse! You cannot treat someone in such a way and still expect the same level of respect afterwards. It just doesn’t work that way.”

 

“It’s just sex, it doesn’t mean anything.” Daphne tried to defend.

 

“Sex always means something.” Harry told her bitingly. “Even if you think it doesn’t, it does. You entered a formal contract, you signed on the dotted line, didn’t you? You made a promise to the person who you were entering that contract with and then you just shit all over it and all over him by fucking as many people as you could without any thought, without even considering your actions or the consequences of them. This contract is a pathway to potential marriage, not an opportunity for you to mess about before the marriage ceremony to someone you are betrothed to and know you’re going to be marrying at the end of said contract. You’re disrespecting him with every action and even every thought that you are doing nothing wrong as you stick to your meagre defence of ‘oh, it’s only sex. It doesn’t matter.’ Because it does matter and one day, you’ll fuck the wrong person or just one person too many and Theodore will be gone and you’ll have absolutely nothing left to fall back on. You’ll be unmarriable and then what will you do?”

 

The compartment remained silent and Harry kept his burning eyes on Daphne for a moment more before he went back to his Herbology questions.

 

“What assignments do you have left?” Draco asked him over ten minutes of utter silence later as Harry had finally answered all twenty-five Herbology questions with several decent sized paragraphs each.

 

Harry put his Herbology homework safely back into his trunk after a quick spell to dry the ink and pulled out his Ancient Runes translations. He had done the essay for Ancient Runes but he had actually asked for additional homework because he was so far behind everyone else. Professor Babbling had been surprised but incredibly pleased with his request for additional homework.

 

“Just the essay and questions for Defence Against the Dark Arts and I still have the Astrology homework to do, obviously, and then it’s just my extra homework for Ancient Runes and the extra calculations for Arithmancy.”

 

“That’s all you have left?” Blaise asked in shock.

 

Harry nodded smugly. “I did all of my essays between last night and this morning and I did all of the harder pieces first, so all I’ve got left to do are all easy pieces that won’t take me more than a few hours each to complete. Of course I left Defence for last as it’s my favourite subject and it’s very unlikely that I’ll get stuck or lost writing that particular essay and it probably won’t take me more than an hour or two to finish. I’m going to have the entire holiday to myself and all the homework I’ll have left to do is just observing the planets at night, twice a week for an hour.”

 

“How, in the name of Merlin, did you write nine essays in one night and one morning, did you not sleep at all?” Pansy demanded. 

 

“No, not much. I went to bed well after three in the morning and I was back up at just gone seven this morning, I had less than three hours sleep. I got eight essays done last night, that is the reason why I disappeared just after I’d finished dinner. I went straight to my rooms and I started on the hardest piece of homework that I had, which of course was the Arithmancy essay for Vector and then the essay for Transfiguration. I had a good, uninterrupted nine, ten hours to do eight essays and I finished off the ninth essay this morning at breakfast and then I started on all of the question sheets. I was determined that I was going to finish as much as I could before I got home, even if I am completely tired right now because of how late I stayed up and how early I forced myself awake, it doesn’t matter, because I no longer have any homework to distract me from spending time with my betrothed.”

 

“I can’t believe you have the entire holidays to do nothing.” Draco groused as he watched Harry do more of his homework.

 

“It took me a day, Draco. True it has taken about seventeen hours and I’m still not done, but if you started now, as we still have six hours left of this train journey, in a few days you’d be all finished too.” Harry told him.

 

Draco groaned like a drama queen, but he still went into his trunk and got out a few pieces of homework. He didn’t have the drive that Harry had had though. Harry had wanted to finish as much as he could so he could spend as much time as possible with Rabastan, so he had pushed himself to finish as much as he could and now because of that drive, he was almost finished.

The eleven hour train ride passed very quickly for Harry. He had finished all of his homework, eaten a snack of pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes washed down with pumpkin juice before he had taken the time to check through every single one of his essays, had Draco check through his Ancient Rune translations and made sure all of his answers on the question sheets were correct.

 

“Why are you still doing homework?” Blaise asked him as he played yet another game of exploding snap with Draco.

 

“I’m just making sure that it’s all correct and that it makes sense. It’s fine to do it all, but I’d rather not have to re-write it all if I’ve done something wrong or answered a question wrong. I’d rather do it, check it through now while I’ve got the rest of the train ride to go and then relax.”

 

“You look fucking exhausted.” Blaise told him bluntly. “I would have taken a nap by now if I’d only had three hours last night.”

 

“I’m going to get an early night, sleep a good nine hours and then the rest of my holidays will be relaxing and spent with Rabastan. I’m all set.” Harry said as he snapped his parchment against the small table of the compartment, which he had claimed as his the minute they’d set foot in the empty compartment, and he smiled as he tucked them all away.

 

He took out his Ancient Runes book, sat back in his seat and opened it to his bookmark so he could carry on where he had left it off.

 

“Why in the name of Merlin are you reading now instead of just sitting back and relaxing or just taking the last half an hour to sleep?”

 

“If I slept now for a mere half an hour it would kill me for the rest of the night and I don’t want to meet my betrothed again, for the first time in four months I might add, looking half dead with bleary eyes.”

 

“Good point.” Blaise conceded. “At least it’s almost eight in the night. You don’t have long to wait if you’re planning on going to bed at ten.”

 

“And that is what’s keeping me awake at the moment.” Harry said with a grin. “That and a mix of excitement, adrenaline and nerves.”

 

“Dinner will be served shortly after we arrive home.” Draco told him. “We’ll have time to wash up a bit beforehand and to greet our guests, but you won’t have long to wait before you go to bed.”

 

“I hope it doesn’t come across as too rude that I leave so soon after getting home. I didn’t think of that when I came up with my plan. Will the Lestranges take it the wrong way?” He asked worriedly as he realised that he hadn’t thought of everything after all and that he might actually offend their guests just after he’d arrived home by leaving them so soon to go to bed. It could give them the false impression that he didn’t want to spend time with Rabastan and that wasn’t true at all. In fact, he wanted just the opposite.

 

Draco chuckled. “It’s our home and we’ve just had an eleven hour train journey. They can’t say anything about either of us going to bed early. Besides, you stayed awake for most of the night, you only had three hours of sleep and finished off every scrap of homework that you had been assigned in one day. Even the extra homework that you asked for, for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, just so that you would have more time to spend with Rabastan once you got home. They really can't complain about you going to bed early, Harry.”

 

Harry smiled and he breathed a little easier thanks to Draco reassuring him a little. He was just overthinking everything, he was sure. It was probably just a side effect of only having three hours sleep. If there were any misunderstandings because of his early leave, he would work to dispel it over the next two weeks where he wouldn’t be leaving Rabastan alone for a single moment. He had just two weeks with his betrothed before he was back in school for three more long months before he would be back home for another two weeks for the Easter holidays and then it was the last two and a half months before the end of the year and he’d be home for ten long weeks. Ten long, glorious weeks that he could spend happily and entirely with Rabastan.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Meeting Lucius on the platform was what ramped up Harry’s nerves until he felt like he couldn’t keep still. He’d always been good at dealing with fear and with nerves, but this was a different kind of nervousness. He’d never been nervous because he was going to meet the man that he’d one day be marrying before. This was all new for him and it was that unknown factor that was doing him in.

 

“Have you boys got everything?” Lucius asked as Draco said a final goodbye to Blaise, Pansy and Daphne.

 

“Yes.” Harry answered softly.

 

“You look dead on your feet. Please tell me that you haven’t been so anxious about this evening that you weren’t able to sleep.”

 

Draco scoffed. “No. The little love struck fool stayed awake all night to finish off all his homework so he could spend all of the holidays following Rabastan around like a puppy. He’s exhausted.”

 

Draco threw an arm over Harry’s shoulder and Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“You just couldn’t wait to mention that, could you?” He demanded.

 

“No. He also spent the entire train journey home doing homework too.” Draco said. “So he’s completely done with all of his homework, but he’s so tired now that he can’t walk in a straight line.”

 

“Well well, no wonder you look dead on your feet. Come, let’s get you both home and then I’ll be looking over your work, Harry. If it isn’t up to standard then all of your hard work will have been for nothing, as you will be re-writing it under my direction.”

 

Harry nodded. “I checked it all over on the train. It’s all correct and Draco said that my Rune translations were correct too.”

 

“He actually asked for additional homework.” Draco told his Father.

 

“Only in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, just to help me get closer to where the rest of the class are.”

 

“Well, I’m very proud of you. Now come along, we have guests waiting for our return.”

 

Harry walked beside Draco, their trunks hovering behind them thanks to a spell and they went to the bank of fireplaces that were at the far side of the platform. Lucius stood back and he saw Draco through with his trunk and empty owl cage and then he urged Harry forward to do he same.

Harry was nervous, but he held his feather light trunk and Hedwig’s empty cage tight and shouted out his destination. He landed in the receiving room of Malfoy Manor and he left his trunk and cage next to Draco’s and he waited for Lucius to arrive.

 

“Have you forgotten the way to the drawing room?” Lucius asked once he had arrived in the room.

 

“No, I just…” Harry ducked his head and then raised it again immediately as he realised what he’d done and in front of whom.

 

Lucius actually smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are nervous. This isn’t a bad thing. But would it help if I told you that Rabastan is a nervous wreck waiting for you? He has been since he arrived at the manor.”

 

Harry grinned. “That does help.” He said as he imagined Rabastan sat in the other room, Draco likely with them, waiting for him.

 

“Don’t keep our guests waiting.” Lucius told him and nudged him forward. “Always face your fears and push through any nerves or anxiety or you will never achieve your full potential. You will always be held back.”

 

Harry swallowed, squared his shoulders and left the receiving room and went to the main drawing room while Lucius organised for his and Draco’s trunks to be taken up to their rooms.

He had no idea what he was going to say or do, he didn’t know what was acceptable or what would be a serious embarrassment to him, his family or to the Lestranges, but he also had no idea how he was going to react when he saw Rabastan again.

He wondered again, and definitely not for the first time either, if Rabastan had made any improvements in the four months since he had last seen him. He steeled himself not to react, to keep everything positive, even if Rabastan had deteriorated for whatever reason. He was going to be marrying Rabastan and they would be having children together, it didn’t matter what he looked like.

He came to the door of the drawing room, he composed himself a little, made sure that his casual robes (that he’d changed into on the train just before it had pulled into Kings Cross station) were straight and clean. He tried to fix his hair up a little and he took a moment to just breathe as he inhaled deeply, before he squared his shoulders, stood up straight and took the plunge and he walked into the room.

It took him a moment to take everything in, Narcissa and Draco were sat happily on a settee with Xerxes who had a glass of deep, dark red wine dwarfed in his hand. Rhadamanthus was floating in an odd armchair on the edge of everything, as if he had been excluded from everything, even though he was still there in the room with them and then, on the other settee, sat the intimidating brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan.

Harry couldn’t prevent the automatic smile that blossomed over his face when he laid eyes on Rabastan, he didn’t even think to check him for progress or signs of improvement or lapses. He just caught those deep blue eyes and he couldn’t look away and he was so happy to see him again that the smile was involuntary and absolutely genuine.

His betrothed stood up, with a little lean onto the arm of the settee as he did so, and Harry walked right to him and stood a little uncertainly in front of him as he craned his head back to smile up at Rabastan.

It was the youngest Lestrange who broke the awkwardness by pulling him into a gentle hug, his arms were shaking and Harry felt one of his forearm muscles spasm against his back, but he ignore it.

 

“It’s good to see you again.” Rabastan told him.

 

“I missed you.” Harry said as he slipped his arms around Rabastan and made sure that he didn’t squeeze him at all or make him uncomfortable about his bony body.

 

“You are supposed to come and greet me first as the head of the Lestrange family.” Xerxes told him neutrally.

 

Harry pulled back from Rabastan and he blushed so hard that he felt lightheaded. He could actually feel his face flaming like a beacon. He had been so worried about how he would greet Rabastan when he first saw him again that he hadn’t even thought that it might have been protocol to have greeted Xerxes first, or even Narcissa, who was his adoptive Mother after all. He was so embarrassed that he just wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole, but he couldn’t run away from this or take that luxury of escape, he needed to do some quick damage control to try and make this right.

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t…I just wanted….” He stammered and that humiliated him even further. He was a Lord of two houses, he was supposed to be smooth and eloquent and now he was stuttering as bad as Quirrell had. He shut himself up before he could do any further damage and tried to think of something to do to make this in any way better.

 

Xerxes laughed loudly and stood up, leaving his wineglass on an end table, and he yanked Harry into a crushing hug.

 

“The look on your face! As if I would turn this visit into a formal one. No, you go and sit with Rabastan and greet one another properly. I’m just glad to see that you are well and happy.”

 

Harry smiled at the huge man in utter relief and he sat himself next to Rabastan, squashing himself between the arm of the chair and his betrothed. He definitely didn’t want to sit between the brothers. He didn’t want to come between Rabastan and his brother in anyway. Rodolphus had been his brother’s support system for so long, through so many long, hard years. He understood that Rabastan still needed his brother and that he would likely always need his brother after what they had suffered and survived through together and he also understood that because of that dependency, even if it lessened over the years, Rodolphus would always be extremely overprotective of Rabastan. It was something that he understood and had already accepted.

Lucius walked into the room and he looked at Harry squashed in next to Rabastan and one eyebrow rose a little, but he didn’t say anything about his choice of seating. He broke the small layer of ice by sitting down and immediately drawing Xerxes into a conversation, leaving Harry free to shift his body more towards Rabastan and start a conversation with him.

 

“How have you been?” Rabastan asked, beating him to the punch.

 

“I’ve been well. A little stressed over school, but nothing that’s worth complaining of.” Harry said with a smile. “How have you been? Have you been busy?”

 

Rabastan sighed. “It has been a little hit and miss, I won’t lie. I’ve had some dark days, but they are fewer than they once were.”

 

“I would have been very surprised if you hadn’t had any bad feelings or moods. It’s normal.” Harry said soothingly. “I wouldn’t want you to hide those feelings or moods from me either. I want to help you, Rabastan. I can’t do that if you hide everything from me. You never mentioned any of those moods to me in your letters.”

 

“I didn’t want you to think any differently about me.”

 

Harry smiled wryly. “Do you think any differently of me because I told you that I was upset on some days and angry on others?”

 

“No. Of course not.”

 

“Exactly. I wouldn’t have felt or thought any differently if you had just told me that you were having a bad day or dark thoughts. I don’t mind hearing about it, Rabastan.”

 

He got a thin smile for his efforts, though it was interrupted by an almost full body spasm that locked Rabastan’s jaw and made him drool slightly.

 

“Will you control yourself?!” Rhadamanthus yelled at a shrivelled, humiliated Rabastan. “You’re an embarrassment. A complete disgrace!”

 

“You will not speak to him in such a way.” Harry said coldly as he took out his handkerchief from the inside pocket of his robes and he wiped Rabastan’s chin, ducking his head so that he could get eye contact with a cringing Rabastan. “You can’t help it and it’s completely fine.” He said firmly. “This isn’t your fault, Rabastan. That place is utterly vile and isn’t fit for human habitation. I’m already looking into ways to have it shut down.”

 

“You can’t shut down a prison.” Rhadamanthus scoffed at him. “The Ministry would never consent to such a thing and thinking otherwise is just a child’s dream.”

 

“I’m sure that all such ambitious plans are seen to be just ‘child dreams’ in the beginning, but I am determined to see this through until the end. An island in the middle of the North Sea, protected by all the wards and spells that Azkaban has around it should be enough on its own. The Dementors however, are another matter entirely and I will not sit back and allow people to be tortured in such an inhumane way just because the Ministry wants to look the other way because it’s the easiest option for them to take. Those creatures should not be allowed near humans and they certainly should not be allowed to freely feed from whomever they please. Human guards would be better able to take care of the prisoners and can actually evaluate potential flight risks and suicide risks, unlike the Dementors. I won’t rest until I have achieved this, even if I’m knocked back again and again, year after year, I will achieve this before I die.”

 

“You don’t have to.” Rabastan said quietly.

 

“Did you not listen to a word that I just said?” Harry asked him with a hard tone. “I’m already doing it, I’ve already started researching everything that I need to, to make this an issue that people will listen to. I won’t stop just because I fail once, or even several, times. I won’t back down and I will keep forcing people to listen and I won’t be quelled just because people won’t listen to me. I’ll force them to listen and I’ll make them see that giving the Dementors such a free reign will ultimately make them harder to control. They need to be evicted from the prison and bound somewhere that no humans currently, or will ever, populate. We don’t need them, they are not helping us or our world, they are actually endangering us!”

 

“If you keep talking like that then you’ll even convince me.” Xerxes laughed.

 

Harry fumed at the condescending comment.

 

“I requested records from the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.” Harry said calmly, reigning in his temper and controlling it. “Did you know that since Azkaban became a prison in the early seventeen hundreds, Dementors started going missing from the fortress? The number of Dementors going missing increases every single year, running the risk of exposure of the wizarding world to Muggles, Dementor attacks to the entire population of Britain, which is before taking into account that they might have gone even further into the world than just the British Isles. They are dangerous creatures and it greatly concerns me that they’re just leaving the prison and going missing and no one is doing anything about it! They could be doing who knows what without any regulations placed on them at all. Imagine if they were breeding in the remote corners of the world without any control? We need to act now and get rid of the lot of them.”

 

Xerxes and Lucius shared a look and Harry quivered angrily before turning away and ignoring them both. He didn’t care what they thought, he was doing this whether anyone backed him or not. For Sirius and for Rabastan.

He had always hated the Dementors and to an extent he feared them and what they were capable of and particularly how they affected him. The wizarding world was biased and prejudiced against any and all magical creatures, they slammed tighter and tighter restrictions on them needlessly, yet they happily ignored the one creature that needed controlling the most. It was infuriating.

What Damocles Rowle had been thinking when he’d allowed the Dementors to remain when he’d initially chosen the island to be the new wizarding prison was completely beyond him. Couldn’t anyone else see the escalating danger? The increasing numbers of Dementors, the higher and higher amount of them that were disappearing from Azkaban? The signs were all there and they were a glaring red. Something needed to be done and quickly, before it was too late.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry had excused himself just after dinner as Rhadamanthus had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal alternating between telling him how ridiculous Harry and his thoughts were and belittling and shaming Rabastan.

He was so angry when he reached his room that he had to beat his pillow several times just to work through the rush of angry adrenaline.

He sat back up and he went to his trunk, taking out some of his sentimental things and putting them around his room, the most important of which was the framed photo of his parents that he put on his bedside table. With his room a little more homey, he changed into his pyjamas and climbed back into his bed with a book.

He didn’t care what anyone said or did, he had his own mind and his own thoughts and feelings and he’d be damned if he let anyone tell him that they were wrong or childish, especially not Rhadamanthus of all people. He really needed to do something about him, if the scant hour and a bit that he had spent with the vile man was any indication, then he was determined, committed and ruthless in his attempt to completely destroy Rabastan. Harry didn’t know why Rhadamanthus wanted to hurt and possibly even kill his own son, but he would not let him do so.

He was only sixteen years old, he was limited in what he could do, he already knew that. Yet that didn’t mean that he was completely useless or that he’d stand aside and allow Rhadamanthus to destroy his budding family without even trying to do something about it. It did mean that he needed help, the problem was, where did he go for that help? He couldn’t ask Rabastan or Rodolphus to kill their own Father, he couldn’t ask Xerxes to kill his own son. Draco was only a month older than he was and Lucius was an eternal diplomat and might have tried to talk him out of killing Rhadamanthus and trying to work things out instead. But Harry couldn’t leave such a powerful threat to his family alive, not when he didn’t know what was actually motivating Rhadamanthus’ hatred towards his youngest son in the first place. Not when he didn’t know if that hatred would spill over onto his and Rabastan’s future children. So where did he go about finding someone to help him kill a man?

He was sure that he could pay someone to help him, but he only had one real shot at this, if anyone, especially Rhadamanthus, caught on to his plan, then it would all be over. The man would kill Rabastan, maybe Harry as well for good measure, as well as any children they had. No, he needed to do this right, even if it took a year or more of planning and another couple of years to implement the plan, he was adamant that Rhadamanthus had to be dead before he and Rabastan had their first child at least. He needed to eliminate the danger as quickly as possible without risking his one and only shot at this and preferably it needed to be done before he fell pregnant, before he was married and before Rhadamanthus completely destroyed Rabastan. There was a lot to plan and a lot to figure out beforehand, he couldn’t just jump in and start firing off curses, he was worried that it would be several years before he had a shot of eliminating Rhadamanthus and he was scared of the damage that could be done in that time to Rabastan and possibly even their children as well.

Harry was so tired now that he wasn’t even feeling tired anymore. He cracked open the book he’d taken to bed and he hoped that reading it in a warm, cosy bed would help to lower his anger and help him relax enough to sleep as he pushed away all thoughts of planning to kill Rhadamanthus.

It worked in less time than he would have thought it would as his eyelids started drooping after just five minutes. He put the book down and switched off his bedside lamp, snuggling under the covers and falling asleep very quickly, his mind playing around naughty thoughts of Rabastan. He’d been having these dreams for a while now and they always made him feel more relaxed. He only woke up when a house elf insistently prodded him awake ten hours later, telling him that breakfast would be served soon and that ‘Master’ had said to get him up.

Sitting himself up, Harry stretched languidly and with a jaw breaking yawn, he got himself out of bed, found an outfit and a set of casual robes in his wardrobe and he headed for his en suite bathroom for a shower. He took his time, but he didn’t linger too long either, he wanted to see Rabastan again to reassure him that his going to bed early had nothing to do with him and had everything to do with Rhadamanthus making him overly angry and his almost all-nighter the previous day. Three hours was definitely _not_ enough sleep to go a whole day on.

He dried himself with a quick spell and dressed as quickly as he could in dark jeans, a nice jumper and his matching casual robes. He made sure that he looked presentable in his full length mirror as he brushed his naturally messy hair before he left his rooms and went down to the formal dining room where all the residents of the manor were already starting their breakfasts.

Harry sat opposite Rabastan, as was expected of him, and he grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it lightly.

 

“Would you like tea or coffee?” Rabastan asked him quietly.

 

Harry smiled at him. “Good morning.” Harry greeted him happily. “Tea please. A bit of milk and no sugar.”

 

The smile that lit up Rabastan’s face made Harry’s belly flutter and he found it difficult to swallow as he put his toast back on his plate.

 

“Watch you don’t throw the tea over your suitor. We would hate for you to scald him.” Rhadamanthus commented from a few seats down from Rabastan, sounding entirely like he would absolutely love for such a thing to happen.

 

Harry noticed the immediate change in Rabastan as everyone turned to watch him. Harry saw how his hand clenched the teacup tighter, straining his damaged, weakened muscles and making the cup shake ominously as he poured boiling water into it with his other, equally shaky hand.

He reached out and cupped both of Rabastan’s hands lightly, applying a bit of pressure before he pulled back, letting his fingers drag across the backs of Rabastan’s hands.

 

“I’m sure he won’t do such a thing.” He said lightly. “Rabastan knows that pushing himself too hard will be detrimental to his recovery and I’m sure that he’s smart enough to know not to push himself by now.”

 

“He almost crushed your hand.” Rhadamanthus sneered at him.

 

“Once, when we first met.” Harry replied with a small smile. “Something I now look back on fondly. Rabastan has since held my hand a hundred times and we’ve never had a repeat of that incident. I trust him and I wouldn’t care even if he did throw it over me, as long as it wasn’t purposefully, of course. I would forgive him for such actions as I know that they are out of his control at the moment.”

 

The distraction had served its purpose as all the attention had been on Harry as he spoke and not on Rabastan as he made the tea, which had taken the pressure off of him and thus had allowed him to pour the cup of tea to Harry’s liking without everyone watching him and waiting for him to do something wrong. As a result he didn’t do anything wrong and he handed him a cup of tea that Harry took a deep drink from. He sighed happily and thanked Rabastan before he went back to his toast.

 

“I will require all of your homework after breakfast, Harry.” Lucius reminded him.

 

He nodded. “I left them all in a folder at the top of my trunk so that I could get it out easily and none of them would be damaged on the train journey home.”

 

“Yes, Lucius told me last night that you had spent all night and then all day finishing all of your homework. I had wondered why you looked particularly tired when you arrived last night.”

 

“I just wanted it all done and out of the way.” Harry said with a smile and a glance at Rabastan. “I don’t want any distractions getting in the way of our short amount of time together.”

 

Harry got the impression that he had embarrassed the larger man, so he changed the subject before anyone could notice or draw attention to it.

 

“Besides, it’s a good thing for me because I can now spend these next two weeks just relaxing without worrying about homework because I know that it’s all done. I’m still reading my books, of course, but I won’t get a detention for not reading those.”

 

“It’s doubtful that we will have a Wizengamot meeting in these two weeks either.” Xerxes commented. “Though I’ve been a member for far too long to completely disregard the stupidity of others. So we may have an emergency meeting at one point, though I hope not. You and Rabastan need time to bond.”

 

Harry shared another look with Rabastan and smiled almost shyly. He didn’t know if it was strange that he could see himself marrying Rabastan and having children with him at all, let alone so soon after meeting him for the first time, but he did know that he had never thought this way about anyone else before.

Then again he had never thought of it before. He’d had a childish crush on Cho last year, they’d shared a few kisses, but she hadn’t made him feel this nervous or as excited as Rabastan did. He’d been nervous to speak to her, because he had no idea how to go about doing it, but it wasn’t the same as this feeling he had with Rabastan.

He’d realised since that it had to be because he was actually gay and Cho had done nothing for him. He’d gone with her because he could see that she was a beautiful person inside and out and he’d thought that it was only normal for him to ask her out, so he had. It had been her jealous outburst in Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop over his friendship with Hermione that had made him rethink everything, it had been that incident that had planted the seed in his head that perhaps being with another boy would be better than being with a girl. It had only taken him a few months after that to realise that he didn’t want a boy either, he wanted an older man.

Now here he was, another couple of months after the end of his fifth year and he was betrothed to an older man and he wasn’t even speaking to Ron or Hermione anymore. He had to wonder what they would have thought of his relationship with an older man. He obviously would never have told them that it was with Rabastan Lestrange of course, he could just imagine the reaction that _that_ would have gotten him.

After breakfast he went and got his homework for Lucius to look over before he and Rabastan secluded themselves into a spare sitting room to talk. It was a little awkward, mainly due to their age difference and Rabastan’s damaged and emaciated body, but he still had a reasonably sound mind. He wasn’t insane and he was rational and able to talk, but that was another obstacle, what did they talk about? Rabastan had been in prison for the last fifteen years after all and had only recently gotten out.

Sighing, Harry moved from his chair and went to sit beside Rabastan. He didn’t care if it wasn’t the ‘done thing’ during a betrothal period, he hated putting any sort of distance between them and with Rabastan being the way that he was, it was probably more detrimental to him and planting false ideas into his head that Harry was displeased or disgusted by his body.

 

“You’re not supposed to sit….”

 

“I know.” Harry said. “But I don’t care. I’m not going to sit opposite you like this is some cold, clinical interview for a job position. I want to sit beside you, is that a problem?”

 

“No. No problem.” Rabastan answered. “But you really should have a chaperone if you’re going to sit this close to me.”

 

That made Harry laugh. “Why, are you going to take advantage of me?” He asked with a grin.

 

Rabastan grinned back. “Perhaps.”

 

Harry laughed. “Is it still taking advantage if I don’t care?”

 

“Possibly, as you are still under the age of seventeen.” Rabastan answered, but Harry realised that he was somewhat distracted.

 

Rabastan was staring at his mouth and his hands kept moving and clenching, as if Rabastan was trying to prevent himself from touching him.

Harry took the initiative. He’d never been one to ignore such obvious signs, especially not when it was something that he wanted as well, and he usually dealt with things by charging head first at it. He was still a true Gryffindor at heart after all.

He moved forward and pressed his lips to Rabastan’s in a kiss that was shorter than most toddlers gave to their Mothers and probably just as innocent and chaste. Had he mentioned before that his only experience had been with Cho and that that had gone horribly as well?

He blushed at his horrific attempt at kissing and he stood up to flee until he could control his raging embarrassment when a large hand gripped his wrist and pulled him backwards until he was sprawled over Rabastan’s lap.

 

“Was that your first kiss?” Rabastan asked him gruffly.

 

Harry shook his head. “No, but it actually went better than the first one if you can believe it, which really is saying something.” He almost whined.

 

Rabastan chuckled and before Harry could shift, move or even think about being humiliated over his childish and pathetic attempt at kissing, Rabastan had taken over and intently taught him exactly how a proper kiss should be performed.

Harry was addicted from the first moment. He was breathless and his heart was hammering with excitement and still a touch of nervousness as they kissed again and again, stopping only long enough to draw in a few quick breaths, pulling back only slightly as their noses pressed and brushed against one another as they panted heavily, before their lips met and they were kissing again, but fuck was Rabastan a good kisser.

Harry felt the tell-tale smack to the back of his head and he broke away from Rabastan sharply, looking over his shoulder to see the furious face of Narcissa Malfoy.

 

“Well it seems that you two have just proved indefinitely that you _do_ need a chaperone at all times.” She said in a harsh hiss.

 

“It was just a kiss.” Harry said a little put out that he’d been caught in such a position. It didn’t help that he was very, painfully, hard in his jeans either, or that he could feel an identical hardness pressing against the side of his hip.

 

“No, that was much, much more than just a simple kiss.” Narcissa said dangerously. “Go to your Father’s study and cool off.”

 

Harry sighed but he rolled off of Rabastan’s lap and shared a sly look with him, grinning happily when he caught the pleased, smug look that Rabastan was wearing.

Narcissa was less than pleased and the narrowing of her blue eyes had Harry moving just that little bit faster. He climbed the stairs and knocked on Lucius’ door, hearing the command to ‘enter’ and doing so.

 

“Harry? It was to my understanding that you were spending time getting to know Rabastan better. I am halfway through your homework and I must say that I am very pleased with the quality and standard of it all. Well done.”

 

Harry looked at the floor and scuffed his socked toes against the carpet. Lucius sighed heavily.

 

“You haven’t come here of your own free will. What have you done? If you’ve curse Rhadamanthus, I will be very unhappy with you.”

 

“It’s not that…though I do wish I could curse him, the loathsome bastard that he is.”

 

“Watch your foul mouth.” Lucius commanded seriously. “What did you do?”

 

“Narcissa caught me and Rabastan kissing.” He said and he had the pleasure of watching Lucius’ eyebrows fly off into his hair.

 

“She wouldn’t have sent you here for a quick peck on the cheek, or even the lips, either.” Lucius sighed.

 

Harry shook his head. “No…we were more than likely mauling one another’s mouths. Or at least from her face that’s what it must have looked like we were doing. He’s a fantastic kisser.”

 

“Alright, that’s enough. I could have gone my entire life without hearing that piece of information.” Lucius said, putting up a hand for emphasis. “You know you’re not to have any contact of that manner until you are engaged.”

 

Harry sighed. “It’s a stupid regulation. Like the one where I always have to sit opposite him.”

 

“That stipulation is there to prevent such contact as what you have just engaged in.” Lucius told him sternly. “Any sexual conduct is prohibited until you are engaged.”

 

Harry scoffed. “Yeah but Daphne Greengrass can open her legs for all and sundry, yet I’m not even allowed to kiss the man who I’m betrothed to and plan on marrying? How does that work?”

 

“Do not compare a rock to a diamond. You are no Daphne Greengrass and I would have hoped that you’d have more decorum and much higher aspirations than her, of all people. Her trysts are well known and her reputation is in ruins, even if she doesn’t realise it at this moment in time.”

 

“But I’m betrothed to Rabastan!” Harry said upset. “Why can’t I kiss the man that I’m going to marry? It’s stupid.”

 

“Stupid it may be to your mind, but the regulations are there to protect you. You can kiss and cuddle with Rabastan after you’re engaged to him.”

 

“When will that be?” Harry demanded.

 

“When the Lestranges deem it the right time.”

 

“Can I propose to him?” Harry asked thoughtfully.

 

“No you certainly may not!” Lucius told him. “It is for Rabastan to propose to you, not the other way around.”

 

Harry groaned and kicked his one leg out, scraping his foot across the carpet.

 

“I didn’t realise this betrothal would be so limiting. I want to spend all of my time with Rabastan, yet I have to have it dictated to me exactly what I do. What can I do if I’m not even allowed to sit next to him?”

 

“Surely you can think of something other than kissing to pass the time?” Lucius drawled.

 

“Not at this moment in time.” Harry said cheekily.

 

Lucius sighed. “Whatever happened to simply talking?”

 

“Rabastan has been in Azkaban for fifteen years.” Harry said darkly. “He’s not exactly the best person to hold a conversation with.”

 

“You need to push past that and actually talk to him or your marriage is doomed to fail before you are even engaged.” Lucius told him sternly.

 

“I know. We have talked a little, it’s just a little awkward because we don’t really know one another yet. Letters aren’t really enough.”

 

“Which is why you need to talk to one another.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding.

 

“Now, I won’t punish you for kissing one another this time, but if you do it again you will be confined to a corner of whichever room I am currently residing in. I’m sure the embarrassment of such a thing in front of our guests and your future family will prevent a second infraction.”

 

Harry snorted. “How did kissing become an infraction? I was just getting to know Rabastan better. Intimately.”

 

“That is more than enough on this topic. No more kissing or sexual contact of any kind, do I make myself clear?”

 

“Can you run through everything that sexual content entails so that I’m sure on the matter?” Harry asked.

 

“Harry.” Lucius said warningly.

 

“Alright, alright. We’re clear. I understand perfectly.” He said sadly. “But just so we’re extra clear, once he proposes and I accept, then we can kiss and cuddle all we want?”

 

“Within reason.”

 

Harry pulled a face. “What does within reason mean? We’ll be engaged!” He asked.

 

“I will not allow you into one another’s bed chambers without a chaperone and I do not want to see you ‘mauling each other’s mouths’ like you were allegedly doing today.”

 

“Will I have any restrictions on my love life when I’m married?” Harry demanded.

 

“Of course not. You’ll be married.” Lucius told him exasperatedly.

 

Harry left the study a little sulkily, he made a quick detour into his bed suite and took a moment to calm himself down and regain control of his emotions. It wasn’t fair, but Pureblood tradition was something that both the Malfoys and the Lestranges held with utmost seriousness. Everything had to be done by the letter and though it was annoying, Harry had known what he was getting himself in for from the very start…to an extent at least.

He hadn’t known that he wouldn’t even be able to kiss Rabastan until they were officially engaged, and that even after they were engaged their kisses couldn’t be overly passionate, but he was sure that he could wait a little longer, he had school to distract him after all. But fuck was Rabastan an amazing kisser, he was going to be thinking of those kisses now until he could get another taste. Already he was getting hard again just thinking about it.

He squeezed himself through his robes and his jeans. Damn Rabastan and those addictive kisses! There was no way, absolutely no way, that he’d now be able to sit in a room with Rabastan and not think of those hot, open mouthed kisses, or prevent himself from wishing for another one.

He banged his head against his bedroom door and sucked in a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this, he had another two weeks at home with Rabastan…Rabastan who he couldn’t touch or kiss. He groaned. Who the hell knew that Rabastan had the strength to grab him as he had, drag him backwards over his lap and snog him like that. It had been beyond his wildest fantasies. Which wasn’t really saying much as he hadn’t really thought of anything like that before. That was going to change now, however. His dreams and fantasies were going to be a lot more prevalent and graphic now thanks to Rabastan, and they were going to be a lot more realistic too now that he actually had something to go off of.

He sighed and left his room and went back to where he’d left Rabastan, only to find a stony looking Xerxes sitting in the dead silent room, staring at a shame faced Rabastan.

 

“Is your Father cancelling the contract?” Xerxes asked him.

 

“No, of course not.” Harry said in surprise. “I wouldn’t let him even if he tried.”

 

Harry plonked himself next to Rabastan and took his hand, about all he could do while merely betrothed and with a chaperone sat in the room with them.

 

“You were gone a long time.” Rabastan said worriedly.

 

“I was getting a lecture about exactly what I could or couldn’t do with you while we’re only betrothed and not engaged. I even asked if I could propose to you, but I was told that I absolutely could not and that I had to wait for you to do it…hint hint.”

 

The ice was not just broken but completely smashed through as Xerxes roared with laughter and Rabastan grinned happily, his hand tightening only slightly around Harry’s. He was too aware of his damage limitations to try and squeeze any tighter, but Harry understood the gesture and smiled at him cheekily.

 

“So what can we do?” Rabastan asked. A muscle ticked in his jaw and he growled at himself angrily.

 

“Apparently very little.” Harry sighed. He lifted their joined hands and swayed them a little. “This is about all we’re going to be allowed to do until you propose and I accept.”

 

Rabastan smiled at him and it was so naughty that Harry’s heart automatically started beating faster and suddenly it was him who was starting at those thin, cracked lips, hoping that he’d get another kiss. Rabastan caught the look and bent to kiss him, only for a cushion to smack the both of them in the face.

 

“Enough of that now.” Xerxes chastised them both, looking far too amused to truly be annoyed at the both of them trying to kiss one another in front of him as he summoned back the cushion that he’d banished at them. Harry had forgotten that he was even there.

 

Harry huffed and rested his head against Rabastan’s bony shoulder. He made sure not to rest his full weight on him and cause him discomfort or even pain.

An arm slipped around his waist and rested against him and Harry pressed his own arm on Rabastan’s and he sighed happily, snuggling in.

 

“You two look so contented.” Xerxes snorted. “I can see why Narcissa demanded that you have a chaperone at all times during this two week break.”

 

“She’s being a killjoy.” Harry said miserably. “It was just a kiss. What’s wrong with a simple kiss?”

 

Xerxes laughed and Rabastan chuckled.

 

“It’s tradition.” Xerxes told him.

 

“I know, I know. I got the lecture from Lucius. It still doesn’t make it fair, though. There’s nothing wrong with kissing.”

 

“You two aren’t even supposed to be sat next to one another, but luckily for you both, I’m a very lenient man.”

 

Both Harry and Rabastan laughed at that and Xerxes joined in.

 

“Watch it the both of you. I can force you to sit on opposite chairs.” Xerxes threatened.

 

“We’re bonding.” Harry said. “You can’t interrupt our bonding!”

 

Xerxes scoffed. “You’re lucky that I like you. You’re far cheekier than you have any right to be!”

 

“You like me this way, don’t try to deny it.” Harry said with a wide grin.

 

“I definitely like that smart brain of yours more than the smart mouth.”

 

“I like both.” Rabastan said.

 

Harry laughed and nudged him gently. “I like your mouth too.”

 

“Enough.” Xerxes warned them. “You will be confined to separate rooms at this rate.”

 

Harry snorted and moved so he shifted his position on Rabastan so that he didn’t become too heavy for any one part of Rabastan’s body.

It happened in an instant. One moment they were all fine, talking and laughing, the next Rabastan’s arm had clenched vice tight around his body and had driven all of the air from his lungs, making Harry gasp in pain and choke for breath.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Rabastan said loudly as he clutched his violently spasming arm tightly with his opposite hand to keep it controlled.

 

Harry held up a hand and tried to catch his breath back, his one arm around his ribcage to ease away the remaining pain.

 

“What happened?” Lucius demanded and it was then that Harry realised that Xerxes had sent off a house elf to get the head of the Malfoy family.

 

“I’m alright.” He insisted a little breathlessly as he was still a bit winded. “It was an accident. That’s all.”

 

“That wasn’t what I asked.” Lucius growled out as he crouched down in front of him and pulled his arm away from his ribcage, his wand in his hand as he checked him over for any damage.

 

“It was nothing.” Harry said firmly and with a slight bite. People making this much of a fuss over what had happened would do more harm than good for Rabastan’s mental health and his confidence. Harry didn’t want that at all.

 

“There are no broken bones. You may bruise, however.”

 

“I’ve told you that I’m fine. Rabastan, I could use a drink. Will you accompany me to the kitchen?”

 

He didn’t even give Rabastan the time to answer as he stood up, stepped forward, took his hand and all but dragged the man out of the room and towards the kitchen.

 

“I am sorry.” Rabastan repeated.

 

“You don’t need to apologise. I told you, I’m completely fine, which is why I don’t like people fussing over me as if I was smashed in the face with a bludger.” He scowled. “I know you can’t control it, Rabastan. I know you didn’t want to hurt me, so I got angry when Lucius and Xerxes started fussing and demanding what was wrong. I’m sure it made you feel much worse than when you actually squeezed me!”

 

The averting of Rabastan’s eyes told Harry all he needed to know. He moved to snuggle in to Rabastan and wrapped an arm loosely around his waist.

 

“It’s alright, Rabastan.” Harry assured him. “I still care about you and I still want to marry you.”

 

“I don’t understand why.” Rabastan all but growled. “I’m a mess and I’m not getting any better!”

 

Harry chuckled lightly and nuzzled his face against Rabastan’s robes. Underneath them he could feel how thin and unnatural his betrothed felt, but he forced himself to ignore it.

 

“You are getting better and I’m amazed that you can’t see for yourself any of the progress that you’ve made. You’re so much better now than you were just four months ago and I’m incredibly proud of you.” He said, smiling up at Rabastan and letting him see the stark truth of his words on his face and in his eyes.

 

Rabastan stopped walking and Harry was forced to stop as well, one of those huge, but almost skeletal hands cupped his face, pressing lightly, but Harry could still feel the strength that was hidden there, belied by its weak and brittle appearance.

It was the smile on Rabastan’s face however, that stopped Harry short and his eyes were drawn to that smiling mouth, to those lips.

Rabastan had him up against the wall in the next moment, their bodies pressed tightly together and they were snogging furiously. Harry put his arms up around those shoulders, playing with the dry, straw-like hair at the back of Rabastan’s neck.

 

“Watch you don’t get caught doing that.”

 

The two of them sprang apart like naughty boys to see a grinning Rodolphus walking down the hallway towards them.

 

“Couldn’t you have just walked past without saying anything?” Harry groused. “I was enjoying myself.”

 

“I can see that.” Rodolphus said seriously. “Rabastan, you know that the betrothal contract doesn’t allow this sort of behaviour.”

 

“You sound like an old man.” Rabastan told his brother and Rodolphus’ face split into a, slightly deranged, grin. 

 

“I am almost forty-one.”

 

Harry laughed. “That’s not old.” He told his future Brother-in-law.

 

“It is for him. I’ll send my Christmas gift for you back and I’ll buy you a tombstone instead.” Rabastan told his brother.

 

“Damn…does this mean I have to exchange my gift as well and buy him a coffin?”

 

“A matching pair of gifts from a matching pair of complete imbeciles.” Rodolphus drawled. “Wonderful.”

 

Harry couldn’t hold back the laughter and he saw Rodolphus roll his eyes and walk away.

 

“We better get to the kitchen. He’s probably going to send a chaperone or two after us.” Harry said as he calmed himself down and grabbed Rabastan’s hand again.

 

They made it to the kitchen and Harry asked for two drinks from the little elf who was happily scrubbing the numerous breakfast dishes. Harry had tried to get the drinks himself, but the elf had almost had a fit. At least it had made Rabastan laugh and anything that made Rabastan laugh was definitely a good thing. Harry wanted to make him laugh as much as possible while he was home. He wanted to make a good impression on him. He wanted Rabastan to want to marry him as much as he wanted to marry Rabastan.

 

“Those robes look really good on you.” Rabastan complimented as he watched interestedly as Harry bent over the table to take the plate of biscuits off of the elf. The movement showed off the tight form of his body and Rabastan swallowed as his imagination took off. He had to forcibly remind himself that Harry was sixteen, which didn’t really help at all, and that as his betrothed he wasn’t even allowed to touch him as he wanted to. The engagement ring that he had designed and had had custom made was upstairs, sitting ready and waiting on his bedside table and it played heavily on his mind.

 

Harry looked down at the robes he was wearing and shifted a little uncomfortably. He’d chosen a nice, deep blue set of robes and the jumper underneath matched the colour perfectly, but other than that, they were just robes. Was Rabastan teasing him, or just struggling for a topic of conversation?

 

“Thank you.” He accepted the compliment graciously, as Narcissa had taught him to do before offering the plate of biscuits to Rabastan. He’d asked, and received, a copy of Rabastan’s diet sheet and he knew biscuits were classed as extras, but if he ate wholemeal ones, and not too many of them, then he would be alright.

 

“Are you feeling better today?” Harry asked Rabastan as he sat down with his cup of tea and his biscuits.

 

“I am. I had a good night last night and the kisses this morning really helped.”

 

Harry laughed happily.

 

“Are you feeling better after your late night yesterday?”

 

“Definitely!” Harry replied empathetically. “I slept for so long, I almost missed breakfast. I really needed it though.”

 

“You looked almost sick, I had wondered if it was the thought of meeting me again.”

 

“No! Of course not. I mean, I was nervous, I’ll admit. It had been four months since we’d last seen one another, I was nervous about seeing you again, but I was just very, very tired.”

 

“How much sleep did you get?”

 

“Yesterday? Only three hours. It almost killed me, but I feel so much better today and all of my homework is now done and out of the way.”

 

“I still can’t believe that you did that, just to spend more time with me.”

 

“Well, I really wanted to spend as much time as possible with you. It’s not that surprising. We’re supposed to be bonding and getting to know one another, I won’t let anything get in the way or jeopardise that, especially not homework.”

 

The smile that Rabastan gave him made butterflies erupt in Harry’s belly and his eyes were drawn to his mouth yet again.

 

“Do you have any hobbies, Harry?” Rabastan asked, his voice noticeably deeper.

 

“Not really. I like Quidditch, though I love just flying for the freedom of it more, but other than that, no.”

 

“I’d love to see you fly. Your Father says that you’re spectacular.”

 

“Perhaps if I can get Draco to agree, I can have a friendly match with him so you can watch.”

 

Rabastan smiled as he bent closer and anticipating a kiss, Harry closed his eyes, only for lips to brush against his ear.

 

“I’d really love to see that.” Rabastan whispered into his ear before he pulled back and kissed him softly, cradling his head in his hands.

 

A throat cleared and they sprang apart like a fire had erupted between them for the third time that day. This chaperone business was getting old. Harry plucked up the courage to lift his head to see who had interrupted them, only to feel his stomach drop at the sight of Draco stood in the doorway. 

 

“You know that such behaviour is not allowed during a betrothal period.” He said pompously.

 

“It was a peck.” Harry tried to explain.

 

Draco scoffed. “That was more than a peck, Harry.”

 

“Only a little more.” Harry tried.

 

“A lot more. Come on, if I have to be your chaperone, I’m not staying in the kitchen of all places.”

 

“Why are you our chaperone?” Harry demanded.

 

“Any family member can be a chaperone.” Draco told him, his voice dripping with self-importance. “I am older than you after all.”

 

“By eight weeks!” Harry said incredulously.

 

“I’m still older and thus I still qualify as a chaperone, now come on.”

 

Harry groaned and stood up. He took Rabastan’s hand and glared Draco down when he rose an eyebrow at the move.

 

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as he followed Draco through the house, holding tight to Rabastan’s hand going up the stairs when his betrothed slowed down and struggled a little to climb the numerous steps. He was angry with Draco for walking so fast and up so many stairs when he knew that Rabastan would find it difficult.

 

“The library, just because you have finished all of your homework, doesn’t mean that I have.”

 

Harry grinned, cheering up a little. He loved the library, which is something that he’d never thought that he’d ever say, but the Malfoy library was cosy, warm and secluded. The loveseats inside were also small, he and Rabastan would be touching shoulder to hip to knee sat together on one of those seats.

They reached the library and Harry settled Rabastan down on a seat, as he was looking a little pale and shaky, before he sat next to him.

 

“Here, read this.” Draco threw a book at Harry and he caught it reflexively.

 

Harry scoffed, but he opened the book and he snuggled into Rabastan, a cushion behind his head and he started reading aloud softly.

It was all about Arithmancy, so it was terribly boring, yet it was interesting all the same because it was all new to him, he just wished that it wasn’t such a clinical textbook, but he did his best to make it interesting for Rabastan.

Rabastan’s hand in his hair was very nice though and Harry felt like he didn’t want to move as he rested against the older man and let those strong, shaky fingers tug and massage his hair and scalp as he read from the textbook. Now and then Rabastan would tug too hard or his fingers would spasm and dig into his head, but he ignored these instances and carried on reading, not drawing any attention to the little slips.

 

“You have a lovely voice.” Rabastan told him as he bent over him to whisper softly to him when Harry had paused to take a breath. He kissed Harry’s hair and nuzzled the top of his head. Harry heard him inhaling gently.

 

“This must be terribly boring for you.” Harry said with a grimace. “I’m reading from a textbook after all.”

 

“Not at all. I always liked Arithmancy. Having it read to me instead of trying to read it myself helps me keep track of the information. It’s nice not having to struggle through it on my own. No one has ever read anything to me before.”

 

Harry smiled and then turned back to the book, reading slowly and softly. At least until a house elf popped into the room and announced that lunch was almost ready.

Harry closed the book and stole a quick kiss from Rabastan as Draco was packing up his own books. Rabastan grinned as Harry gave him a sly wink before helping the man to his feet.

They walked with Draco escorting them, hand and hand…well, they were touching from shoulder to hip, or Harry was at least, seeing as Rabastan was a foot taller than he was, but they were brushing and snuggling together like honeymoon lovers as they made their way to the formal dining room.

 

“Will you two stop that?” Draco snapped. “It’s sickening.”

 

“No more sickening than when I had to sit and watch Pansy’s hand caress your lap on the train.” Harry said with narrowed eyes. “At least I’m betrothed to Rabastan.”

 

Draco had the grace to flush, but his silvery eyes glared at Harry and promised him retribution.

 

“Do you want to play Quidditch tomorrow?” Harry asked suddenly and seemingly randomly, but it had actually been a planned question to disarm Draco.

 

Visibly taken aback, it took a few moments for Draco to recover, as Harry had wanted.

 

“If you wish.” He answered after a few moment’s pause. “Will you have the time?”

 

“Of course. I have nothing but time, unlike you. I need to keep up my toned flexibility and speed for the match against Hufflepuff in March.”

 

“It’ll be cold.” Draco warned. “It’s been snowing here.”

 

Harry nodded. He’d seen the snow through his bedroom window that morning. “That’s alright, it’s nothing we aren’t already used to. You need to get used to the snow anyway, your next match is against Ravenclaw in February, it’s likely to be freezing cold and snowing then too.”

 

Draco nodded. “We’re going to flatten Ravenclaw.”

 

“Good luck.” Harry said with a smile. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

 

“A Gryffindor cheering for a Slytherin.” Draco snorted.

 

“Well, I suppose you are my brother. I need to show you some support.” Harry said with a crooked grin.

 

They made it to the dining room, Harry hand in hand with Rabastan still, and before Lucius could say anything about them not being chaperoned, Draco walked in just behind them.

 

“Where have you been, Harry?” Narcissa asked, but Harry detected the hint in her voice, the slight distrust and then the glare she gave to Rabastan. Harry hid his smile as he realised that she was angry with Rabastan, not himself.

 

“In the library with Draco.” Harry answered with a smile. “He insisted on having a turn at chaperoning Rabastan and I, so we accompanied him to the library so that he could do his homework while still keeping an eye on us.”

 

“And what were you two doing?” Lucius asked nonchalantly.

 

“I was reading an Arithmancy book aloud to Rabastan.”

 

“He was.” Draco confirmed as he sat down.

 

Harry ignored the looks of the older men and he sat himself next to Rabastan. He looked up as Lucius cleared his throat and looked pointedly to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

 

“Oh, come on! What am I possibly going to do at the table with you all sat here?” Harry said as he poured himself and Rabastan a drink.

 

Lucius sighed, but he was smiling. “What do you think, Xerxes?”

 

“Let the boys stay where they are. I’m not so old that I can’t remember my own betrothal period and how frustrating it was.”

 

Harry grinned happily at Xerxes as he handed Rabastan a glass of water (he and Rodolphus were strictly not allowed any alcohol at all) before he sat himself down next to his betrothed and took a sip of his own water. He would have preferred pumpkin juice, but he would do anything to support Rabastan, even if it meant drinking water at mealtimes with Rabastan.

The chatter around the table was light and Harry joined in happily before going back to giving his undivided attention to Rabastan, which seemed to bolster his confidence if his expression and progressive animation in their conversation was anything to go on. Not even Rhadamanthus’ odd snide comments could penetrate their happy bubble as Harry took to feeding Rabastan fresh raspberries with his fingers for dessert.

 

“Must you do that?” Draco complained, bringing the attention of the table to them.

 

“What are you doing?” Lucius demanded.

 

“Making sure that Rabastan gets his five a day.” Harry answered blithely.

 

Xerxes laughed, but he was the only one. Rodolphus just stared at them, Narcissa glared, Lucius looked very unimpressed and Rhadamanthus looked like he was barely restraining himself from leaping over the table and choking the both of them with his ham like hands.

 

“I’m still not doing anything wrong.” Harry said. “We’re not touching, we’re not kissing and it’s not sexual. So therefore it’s within the betrothal limits. It doesn’t expressly say that I can’t feed my betrothed with my fingers.”

 

Draco snorted and Rodolphus smiled and Rabastan chuckled, squeezing the fingers of Harry’s left hand lightly. Harry had lied when he’d told the table that they weren’t touching, because they were. They were holding hands under the table, in Harry’s lap, and their knees were touching.

 

“Carry on then.” Lucius sighed, giving in to Harry’s steely determination and fierce defiance.

 

Harry grinned and plucked up another raspberry to feed to Rabastan.

 

“Lucius!” Narcissa cried out scandalised.

 

“No, Dear. Harry is correct. The contract that he and Rabastan signed did not forbid feeding one another fruit and they are still under chaperone supervision while we are in the room with them.”

 

Narcissa exhaled through her nose, but she sat back and sipped at her after dinner tea, saying nothing more.

 

“I disagree.” Rhadamanthus exclaimed loudly.

 

“There’s a surprise.” Xerxes grunted, giving his son a warning look.

 

“I don’t believe that they should be allowed to sit next to one another at all during their betrothal period. It is against tradition!” Rhadamanthus insisted. “They are breaking strict betrothal layouts.”

 

“The betrothal guidelines are set out according to the two families who set up the contract.” Harry said mildly. “That would mean my Father and Xerxes. Not you.”

 

“He is my son!” Rhadamanthus snarled.

 

“And I love him!” Harry declared passionately. “I won’t allow you, or anyone else for that matter, to come between us for such ridiculous reasons! I understand about the traditions, I’ve been taught about them meticulously and I respect them, which is why I am trying my hardest to follow them…for the most part. That said I will not force myself to adhere to them when the attraction between Rabastan and I is so high. I will not bat away Rabastan’s hand if he tries to touch me, I will not recoil away if he goes to kiss me and I would very much hope that he wouldn’t do those things to me if our positions were reversed. I understand the need for chaperones and I respect the need for tradition, but I won’t let either dictate the pace that Rabastan and I interact with one another.”

 

The table fell silent and Harry stared at all of them in turn for a few moments before he picked up another raspberry and he gave his attention back to Rabastan as he offered it up with a smile.

He had meant every word that he’d said and he was going to stick to what he’d said. He hadn’t meant to publically declare his love to Rabastan, at least not before privately telling the man how he felt first, but that didn’t mean that it was any less true.

It had taken four months of separation and then suddenly meeting face to face again for Harry to realise that his ‘budding’ love had actually been the real thing. He loved Rabastan and he wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way of getting what he wanted. He had a chance of love and happiness, of a family of his own and anyone who tried to stand in his way would not like what would happen to them, because he wanted this. It had been all he’d wanted for so long, to have it dangled in front of him, so tantalisingly close, but just out of reach, it was maddening. Anyone who tried to keep him from grasping his biggest wish now that it was so close to him would pay and they’d pay dearly. He’d make sure of it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Bill Weasley rubbed at his tired eyes and wrinkled forehead with a hard, firm pressure. He had a blinding headache forming and it was all thanks to the massive stack of old, dusty books in front of him.

He had never wanted to be a Lord, he’d never wanted to be involved with the Ministry and he’d never even thought of becoming part of the Wizengamot. This entire process was frustrating and not something that he’d ever wanted to do. He liked Egypt, he liked being a curse-breaker. He’d taken a desk job at the London bank a little reluctantly at the behest of Dumbledore, he wanted to help the Order of the Phoenix, of course he did. But this was more than he thought he could handle.

The old laws and traditions were not something that he’d ever been interested in and he could think of nothing more eye wateringly boring than sitting around a table and debating said old laws and traditions with equally old and boring men.

He didn’t know how Harry could stand it, then Dumbledore had shared his fears with him, fears that Harry was just copying the votes of Lucius Malfoy. A very frightening prospect seeing as the man was hell bent of eradicating Muggleborns and raising Purebloods to a higher status than they already had and enjoyed.

He hadn’t had much contact with Harry Potter, he’d seen the boy perhaps a handful of times when Harry had been fourteen, first when he’d come to the Burrow for the Quidditch world cup and then later when he and his Mother had gone to see him at the last task of the Triwizard tournament as family members of a competing champion as Harry had no family of his own. But outside of that, he hadn’t really seen or paid attention to the short, scruffy little boy whom had been friends with his youngest brother.

Now Harry wasn’t speaking to Ron, he had upset Ginny and he was declaring that he wasn’t going to fight you-know-who at all in this coming war. He couldn’t believe this same boy was the son of James and Lily Potter. Two famously well known, extraordinary people who had given their lives to keep Harry safe and had died at the hands of you-know-who and now Harry wasn’t even going to try and stop the evil wizard. He didn’t understand the audacity of Harry’s decision not to fight against the very man who had killed his own parents. The same vile man who wanted to destroy their entire world.

So now they found themselves lost. They were now fighting he-who-must-not-be-named and Harry Potter, the boy who had abandoned them when they needed him to fight the most. He understood that it was a frightening prospect, but they needed to band together and face that fear and stand up to you-know-who and his Death Eaters. They couldn’t give in just because they were afraid. It went against everything that they and their house stood for, they were Gryffindors! They were a part of the house of bravery and now Harry had tucked up his tail and run to the enemy just because he was scared.

Bill sighed and thunked his head into the boring book that he was trying to force himself to read and memorise. At least Percy was happy about it all. He was definitely back on his high horse and he was declaring that he’d known all along that Harry had been the enemy and that Ron should have severed ties with him years ago. He was strutting around the Ministry in his brand new robes, carrying a dragonhide briefcase as if he were the Minister for Magic himself. He was boasting to anyone who would listen, and a lot of those who wouldn’t listen and didn’t give a stuff, that his oldest brother was to become the first Lord Weasley in several generations. He would have made a much better candidate for Lord Weasley, Bill thought miserably. Unfortunately as the oldest son of his Father with his Wife, he was the Heir to the Weasley family, so only he could take the place of Lord Weasley in the stead of his Father. The only way to get out of it was if he were to die, then the Lordship would fall to Charlie, as the next oldest son of his Father.

Which reminded him that he needed to write to Charlie again, he hadn’t heard from his brother in a while and he hadn’t seen him in two years now. He was still sending letters to their Mother, but they were becoming increasingly bare, which was upsetting their Mother. It made him wonder if Charlie had found a girlfriend and was just busy with his new relationship or if something had actually happened to him. Being a Dragon handler was a dangerous job after all and if Charlie had been permanently or seriously injured then it could account for his short words and his tension filled letters and his non-existent visits.

He really needed to invite his brother home so that he could talk to him face to face and see what was going on, until then he more than had his hands full with Percy acting like a Prince, the twins falling over themselves laughing at his new position as a Lord, Ginny’s morose brooding and Ron’s anger and jealousy issues.

Unfortunately his Great-Aunt Muriel was of the same mind set as Percy about the whole thing and when his Mother had sent a letter to Muriel telling her about him taking on the mantel of Lord Weasley, she’d sent him a set of garish robes that might have been in fashion during the goblin rebellion of sixteen-twelve to congratulate him. Needless to say, he would not be wearing them to the Wizengamot meetings. Or ever for that matter.

He was still waiting to be processed into the archives as a Lord, he didn’t have the Galleons needed to speed up the process like Harry had had at his disposal to fast track his early claim of his titles. It was made harder for him as the Weasley family had been stripped of their Lordship generations before and getting the title back was always going to be a hard fought, uphill struggle.

The Ministry were stonewalling him and insisting that his application could wait until after the seasonal holidays, which meant that he wouldn’t even get to see the inside of the Wizengamot meeting halls until at least March. He’d thought about bribing the wizards in charge of his application to get them to do a faster job, but he didn’t want to use such an underhanded, not to mention illegal, tactic to have his application processed a few months early. If he got caught by the wrong people then he would be in huge trouble and his application would be torn to shreds and he’d be unable to help the Order with their needs in relation to the Wizengamot. He was their only chance, he had to get this right.

He sighed yet again. At least it gave him a bit more time to read through this mountain of books that were older than the Ministry itself. He wasn’t understanding half of what he was reading and though Dumbledore was helping him, he could only do so much because he had his duty to the school as the Headmaster and Lucius Malfoy was not making that easy for him at the moment. If half of what Dumbledore was telling him was true, then Harry wasn’t making it any easier for the Headmaster either.

His hands clenched and he flipped the page of the book over to continue reading the boring tirade of information. Harry had abandoned them to their fate and he had joined with the enemy, in his eyes, that made Harry part of the enemy too and he’d never thought that he’d be saying that about the boy-who-lived. But then he would never have thought that their apparent saviour would have joined with you-know-who and allowed himself to be adopted by a Death Eater. It was only a matter of time before he was completely corrupted and started properly fighting against them and then what?

They couldn’t give in, not ever, they had to fight the growing darkness, with Harry or without him. Perhaps if they killed enough Death Eaters and contained the growing darkness, they could get Harry back long enough for him to kill Voldemort and then they could throw the treacherous boy in Azkaban for his abandonment of them and the side fighting for freedom for all peoples.

With more determination than before, Bill went back to his current reading material and tried to understand more of what the ancient, dust spotted book was trying to teach him. He had to be prepared for when his application was accepted, because he had to stand toe to toe with men who had been raised and spoon fed these old laws and traditions from the moment they were born. He needed to be able to hold his own, because unlike Harry, he didn’t have someone to dictate to him what to say and no one to copy when it came to casting a vote.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Voldemort was exhilarated as he heard the news personally that his latest subtle assassination plan had been a success. The chosen Death Eater had reported to him immediately afterwards and so far, no one in the Ministry had noticed any of the carefully planned disappearances nor stumbled upon what was left of the bodies. Not that he expected them to as they were well hidden and transfigured into something else on top. He was being very cautious while the Ministry so kindly blinded themselves to his plans.

Everything was finally coming together and it made him very happy. His followers were more ruthless in their missions, his loyal followers who had been incarcerated in Azkaban were recovering well, though he suspected that Bellatrix’s mental abnormalities would be permanent. After all, the Black family had never been known for their rational, sane way of thinking. However, every once in a while, one of them turned up and they compounded all of the negative Black family traits so completely that they were almost completely unable to carry out the simplest of tasks.

He believed that Azkaban had amplified these traits in Bellatrix, who seemed almost incapable these days of any rational thought. She was completely loyal to him and to the cause, of course, but unable to follow orders to the letter. She worked wonderfully well as a threat and deterrent, but her mind wandered aimlessly and she threw random curses, mostly into the air, but sometimes at other people.

He had hoped that she would get better in time, but the more freedom she got, the worse she became. He was toying with the idea of keeping her busy with menial tasks, but it would be a waste of her particular talents. Giving it some more thought before casting it from his mind, he absently stroked the head of his beloved Nagini as she wound around his shoulders and neck, a comforting warmth that a fellow human had never given him. Nagini, and Nagini alone, was different. It’s why he kept her so close, so protected, it was why she had been chosen, the only living thing, to be one of his precious Horcruxes, of which he’d had six, making seven fragments of his soul, including the part that was still within himself. Now he only had five Horcruxes, he no longer had seven pieces, the most magically powerful number.

Severus, one of his most loyal, had already told him that that incessant fool Dumbledore was looking for his Horcruxes. He’d already destroyed the one…his old diary. He had been absolutely livid with Lucius over the lost Horcrux and he had punished him harshly for losing the diary.

He was thinking of making another one, to replace the one lost, but it took considerable amounts of magical power, not to mention the fact that he needed a suitable victim and a fitting object to contain the soul fragment into.

Running a hand over his smooth, bald head, he considered all of his options seriously. He wasn’t in a position to greatly weaken himself just yet with such a use of magical power needed to make another Horcrux.

 

 _‘What to do, Nagini?’_ He hissed in Parseltongue, his mind exploring several avenues that seemed plausible to him.

 

He knew logically that he was in no position at the moment to make another Horcrux, but the thought of having one less Horcrux than he’d wanted when he’d set out to protect himself really stuck in him.

His eye caught the meticulous, well formatted letter on his coffee table. He smiled despite himself. He had read the same letter half a hundred times and he couldn’t believe the difference in the Harry Potter he had met several times and had once wanted nothing more than to kill and the forming young man who had written him the letter.

He hadn’t killed Lucius over the Horcrux incident because of his amazing forethought to snatch up Harry Potter while he could. He had sifted through Lucius’, admittedly incredible and stunning, thought process of when he’d received the floo call from the bank and had opened that office door to see Harry Potter sitting forlornly in one of the high backed chairs.

He’d gotten the surprise and the anger, the immediate thought to find a way to use this to his advantage, a way to hand Potter over to him as a gift. But he’d also come across the curiosity, the burning curiosity to know why Potter was sitting in the bank, why he didn’t know anything about his heritage, his Lordships or even his bank vaults.

The neglect by Dumbledore was surprising, yet entirely unsurprising at the same time. He knew what the man was capable of, after all, but the extent of what Dumbledore had done to the boy was overall surprising and disgusting. He didn’t blame Lucius for his protective feelings for the boy. After all, tradition and the old laws were a large part of Lucius’ life, of any Pureblood’s life. Finding out that Dumbledore had been using these laws illegally for his own gain had angered Lucius enough that he had informed the boy of everything, had given him the help he’d needed, which had confused Harry Potter visibly, and Lucius had then gotten the boy to claim both of his Lordships, thus greatly weakening Dumbledore’s influence at the Ministry. This had pleased him greatly, as had the forming anger and hate he could see in Potter’s eyes from Lucius’ memories when he was told what Dumbledore had done to him.

Once assured from Lucius’, and Xerxes’, memories that the boy would not stand in his way, even if he wouldn’t outright join him, he had been content to leave the boy to Lucius and allow the man to explore the protective, defensive feelings that he’d developed gradually for the boy.

It was strange to see the process from Lucius’ mind, the forming bond that was only growing stronger. It may have started as a way to discredit Dumbledore and to use the boy for his own gain, but Lucius had come to genuinely care for the boy in a relatively short amount of time, and after reading the letter sent to him by the boy himself, he believed that he understood why. The change in Harry was phenomenal.

He picked up the letter and he chuckled darkly at the emotions he could sense behind the written words. Harry had been angry and frustrated when writing this letter, but it didn’t come across at all in the words that he’d written in very fine calligraphy. Instead the elegant and eloquent letter was a masterpiece in polite, respectful penmanship and Harry had impressed him with his control and his carefully selected words. He hadn’t written Harry back. Harry’s letter didn’t require a reply and he’d perceptively picked up on the merest thought that perhaps his initial letter to Harry had been what had caused his anger and frustration in the first place. He’d have to wait to find out, he was already planning for them to meet face to face again, just to see how the boy reacted. That, more than anything, would clue him into how the boy really felt and if he really would step back and stay out of this war.

If Harry failed this test, then Lucius and Xerxes would have failed in their mission and the boy would have to be eliminated. It would be a shame, especially with his loyal follower, Rabastan, becoming emotionally invested in the boy due to their budding betrothal. But he couldn’t allow any threat to his plans to remain alive, it was why he was orchestrating so many assassinations now, while the Ministry was lax and not aware of what he was doing. It would become infinitely harder to set up and implement such assassinations when everyone was on high alert and expecting an attack.

He sighed and sat contemplating a little more before he stood to get himself a drink, Nagini asleep around his neck still and draped in looping coils down and around his body. Coming to a decision, he called out for a house elf to call one of several Death Eaters that always stayed in this abandoned manor house with him.

He poured himself a drink and sipped at it thoughtfully for several minutes, thinking his forming plan through from all angles. A sharp, solid trio of knocks at the door had him calling out a soft grant of permission to enter the room.

 

“You wished to see me, My Lord.” Antonin Dolohov asked, bowing low at the waist.

 

“I need your arm, Dolohov.” He said softly.

 

The man pushed back the sleeve of his robes in one quick, fluid movement, even as he was already walking towards him.

Voldemort smiled at this show of loyalty, there had been no hesitation in Dolohov at all and as he pressed a finger to the red mark on Dolohov’s arm, turning it jet black, he felt the slight flinch at the sensation, but Dolohov didn’t even try to pull away. He knew that it was burning, but Dolohov looked stoically ahead, not showing any sign of the pain that he must have been feeling.

A small pop of Apparation was heard a short while later and he turned to his new guest.

 

“You called for me, My Lord?” The new voice asked carefully.

 

“Yes, I did. I have need of you for something. Dolohov, leave us.”

 

Dolohov bowed at the waist yet again and left the room, closing the heavy, solid wood door firmly behind him, leaving Voldemort to look happily at his new arrival.

 

“Come, have a seat. We have much to talk about.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for your patience while I sorted out my other fics, lovelies. I know it’s been a while, but I hope that the length of this chapter makes up for it. I need to find a proper balance to juggle all these fics so that I don’t end up forgetting any of them.
> 
> To those of you asking/begging about the twins, and there are more than a few of you, sorry but I’ve made up my mind. The twins will not be siding with Harry over their family, how can they? They don’t believe in what Voldemort is doing, they aren’t going to turn their backs on the family that they love, not even for Harry, who they did see as a brother, but in their eyes, he’s a traitor who has turned to the enemy, they aren’t going to stand by him with that, sorry.  
> As for the shop, Harry gave them the money as a generous gift, they had no contract, no legal documents that said they had to give that money back or that they’d have to make Harry a partner in their venture and Harry never even expected it back or to be made a partner, it was just a gift. Thus Fred and George have no legal obligation to pay it back to him and Harry has no legal claim to it. There’s nothing more to it than that.
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	8. Winter Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> A small pop of Apparation was heard a short while later and he turned to his new guest.
> 
>  
> 
> “You called for me, My Lord?” The new voice asked carefully.
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes, I did. I have need of you for something. Dolohov, leave us.” 
> 
> Dolohov bowed at the waist yet again and left the room, closing the heavy, solid wood door firmly behind him, leaving Voldemort to look happily at his new arrival.
> 
> “Come, have a seat. We have much to talk about.”

 

Chapter Eight – Winter Blues

 

The first few days of the winter holidays were a little stuttered and awkward for the two betrothed, but very quickly Harry found a niche with Rabastan and they both fell into it easily and comfortably until the awkwardness just melted away.

They could converse about things now, where before Harry had been struggling to find subjects and topics that wouldn’t bore Rabastan to death and he had worried about it constantly. Now he looked forward to talking to Rabastan about anything and everything. As soon as he stopped worrying about making a fool of himself, he found that Rabastan was surprisingly easy to talk to and very understanding about their age difference, and thus their naturally different interests.

It got easier once he found out that Rabastan really liked Arithmancy, as in it had been his favourite subject when he had been in Hogwarts. He’d also found out that talking about the Ministry was a good middle ground for them both, despite it being responsible for imprisoning Rabastan and his brother, Rabastan was very interested in the goings on of the Ministry and all the politics that were at play within it.

So though it was strictly forbidden by law, Harry enjoyed sharing his Wizengamot debates with Rabastan, who enjoyed hearing in detail about everything that was being currently voted on and how Harry was personally doing in the courts. It wasn’t like Rabastan could go out into Wizarding public and tell others about what Harry was saying after all and Harry trusted Rabastan not to rat him out, even if he could have gone out into the public. That and it was never spoken of, but universally understood that most of the Lords would tell their Wives about the happenings of the court. It was just one of those things that happened but was mostly ignored until one of said Wives gossiped to her friends, then it became a problem. But most of them understood that they would get their Husbands into serious trouble if they talked, so they kept their mouths shut and instead gossiped about other things.

Someone knocked on Harry’s bed suite door and he put a bookmark into his current Ancient Runes book and closed it while he called for whomever it was to enter.

He grinned when Rabastan entered his sitting room. He put the closed book onto the square side table beside his armchair so that he could give his full attention to Rabastan.

 

“I believe that you’re taking liberties now.” Harry told him teasingly. “Imagine coming into my bedroom at night without a chaperone? You could do anything to me in here.” Harry winked at him naughtily.

 

The door slammed off of the wall and Harry grimaced as he realised that Rabastan had not been as alone as he’d first thought. Rodolphus had his arms crossed over his chest and a very serious, icy looking glare on his face.

 

“Oh…oops. Evening, Rodolphus.” Harry said with his best innocent grin. “There’s absolutely no chance that you aren’t going to tell everyone what I just said, is there?”

 

“Absolutely none.” Rodolphus replied stonily.

 

Harry sighed. “I was only joking you know.”

 

“I’m not taking that chance with my brother.” Rodolphus told him seriously.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair and went to hug Rabastan.

 

“I came to ask if you wanted to take a walk with me in the garden. I asked Rodolphus to chaperone us because he’s the least invasive and the least intruding.”

 

Harry smiled. “I’d like that. Just…no more flowers, okay?” He said with a grimace, referring to the walk in the gardens that they’d taken when they were newly betrothed and before Harry had gone to Hogwarts for his sixth year where Rabastan had plucked a flower from a bush and handed it to him. “I’m just really not a flower guy.”

 

Rabastan chuckled. “Alright. No more flowers. I’m not much of a flower guy either.”

 

The two of them walked hand in hand down the corridor, Rodolphus following after them like a looming, solid shadow.

 

“Can you try to be a little less menacing?” Harry turned to ask him as the hair on the back of his neck continued to prickle uncomfortably. “We’re just going for a walk in the twilit garden. We’re hardly going to start rolling around in the rose bushes. Too many thorns.”

 

Rabastan laughed, but Rodolphus’ scowl only deepened, making his skeletal face look even more sinister.

 

“It isn’t funny.” He declared sharply. “There is ancient tradition to uphold here. A contract that has strict guidelines to follow. I will not let you ruin my brother. I won’t let you hurt him.”

 

Harry sighed and he let go of Rabastan’s hand. He went right up to Rodolphus and stood in front of that skeletal thin, impossibly tall man and looked at him seriously, dead in the eye without flinching or cringing back. Lucius had taught him the importance of eye contact and Narcissa had taught him the importance of a straight back.

 

“Believe it or not, Rodolphus, I have absolutely no intentions of ever hurting Rabastan or ruining him. I’m trying my best to help him! It might be hard for you to believe, but I do love him and I will not let him go and I won’t allow anyone to tell me otherwise. I was adopted by the Malfoys, yes, but only because I’m underaged, I am still Lord Potter and Lord Black. I am still my own man and I can make my own decisions if I feel I have to. I love Rabastan and nothing is going to stand in our way, because I will not let it! The only person who can destroy this betrothal is Rabastan himself.”

 

“Good.” Was all Rodolphus grunted, but Harry got the distinct impression that he’d passed some sort of big brother test as Rodolphus looked much happier and his stance relaxed a fraction.

 

Harry went back to Rabastan and slipped his hand back into the older man’s. They carried on their way to the garden and Harry no longer felt the sensation of a glare boring into the back of his head, so he was a lot more comfortable.

 

“He’s just worried.” Rabastan whispered as they started their walk around the garden, Rodolphus falling a few feet behind them to give them the illusion of privacy while still keeping them in his sights.

 

“I know. It’s wonderful that he loves you so much and that he’s so protective of you. I just wish he’d realise that I’m not the enemy here. I meant what I said, I don’t want to ever hurt you.”

 

“Yet I’m the one who can’t stop hurting you.” Rabastan said with a growl of frustration.

 

In the scant few days since he’d arrived home from Hogwarts, Harry had had more minor injuries than he had actually had meals. Rabastan had bruised his ribs, had elbowed him in the side of his head, given him a black eye, split his lip, knocked him down the stairs, kicked his shin twice, yanked some of his hair out when he’d had a spasm when running his fingers through it, dug his nails into his elbow and dropped a heavy jug of water onto his left hand. Harry had ignored it all as best as he could while Narcissa had applied bruise salve for him and healed his minor cuts with a deft wave of her wand.

Rhadamanthus found it all incredibly entertaining and never failed to remind Rabastan of how utterly useless and inept he was at every opportunity. Which seriously wasn’t helping Rabastan’s confidence at all and caused even more instances of spasms and muscle locking as the thirty-six year old tried too hard to control himself and put more strain on his recovering body, which then caused his muscles to twitch and to move out of his control even more frequently.

Rhadamanthus was undoing all of Harry’s calm and patient care methodically and with a practiced ease that spoke volumes of how much he had given time and thought to the best ways possible to ruin his own son.

 

“You should see my list of Quidditch injuries if you think that the few whacks you’ve given me are anything.” Harry said, letting go of Rabastan’s hand to link his arm through Rabastan’s and reaching down to link their hands back together.

 

“Please, don’t joke about it, Harry.”

 

“You’ve got to give yourself time to recover.” Harry told him patiently. “You can’t expect a miracle recovery to happen overnight and you need to realise that I understand that and I did before we’d even met for the first time. I believe in you. I know that you can get better, but you have to let go of all the small lapses you have had and will have in the weeks and months to come. Your recovery was never going to happen overnight, we both know that, Rabastan. It’s going to take months, if not years of help and specialised care to get you back to health and fitness.”

 

“I know that.” Rabastan snapped angrily. “But when I see Rodolphus doing so well, I…”

 

“Rodolphus is a different man to you.” Harry interrupted sternly. “You are not Rodolphus, you are not your brother and you need to stop comparing your own recovery to his. You were younger than he was when you first went to that place and the younger you are the worse the effects the Dementors have on your mental health and overall wellbeing. Rodolphus is doing so well because he is a different person to you. This doesn’t mean that you are not as strong as he is.” Harry added softly. “It just means that you were both affected differently and he is having an easier time overcoming what happened to him. He still twitches, he still has stiff, aching muscles and joints, just like you do. He dropped a glass of water just this morning because his hand spasmed and he lost his grip. The difference between him and you is not how strong or weak either of you are, it is that he can let those small instances go. He knows that they’re going to happen and he accepts that and when they do happen, he lets them go, Rabastan. You need to learn to do the same.”

 

“I don’t know how.”

 

“Then sit down and talk to Rodolphus and ask him how he does it.” Harry replied, not giving up in the face of Rabastan’s pessimism. “I can let it all go when you accidentally injure me because I know, and I accept, that you can’t help it, that you can’t control what your body is doing. For me, as long as you never hurt me purposefully, I can let go of being injured by accident.”

 

“But you wouldn’t be injured at all if you weren’t betrothed to me in the first place! If you were with a man that wasn’t ruined by Azkaban then you’d be safer, you wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt just from sitting next to me. You could be happier with another man, a whole man who hasn’t ever been to Azkaban.”

 

Harry sighed. “That’s true, but you’re forgetting one thing. I love you. I love you, here and now, as you are stood before me and I _am_ happy. I love _you_. I don’t want another man, whole or otherwise. I don’t care if he’s the personification of perfect! I don’t want anyone else because I don’t love anyone else. I love you, I want to marry you, I want children with _you_. Why can’t you just accept that? Why isn’t my love enough for you? What more do you want from me, Rabastan?” Harry demanded, his temper flaring as they had this conversation yet again. This was the fourth or fifth time that Rabastan had urged him to go off with another man. It didn’t seem to be sinking in that he damn well didn’t want to! “I can’t change that I love you, I can’t change how I feel or how much I want to help you, if you don’t like that then maybe you should think instead about what you do want and consider your options instead of trying to push me away towards other men, making me come off like the bad guy so that you can play the victim some more! If you can’t let go and help yourself and you can’t love me as I am, then you need to be honest and break off the contract yourself because I refuse to marry a man who refuses to help himself and can’t love me for who I am or doesn’t accept my love when I offer it so heartfelt and willingly.”

 

Harry left the silent Rabastan and went back towards the house. He considered going inside for a moment, but he changed his mind and he instead went to the front garden to pet at Lucius’ prized albino peacocks. He wasn’t in the mood to be around other people right at this moment. He wanted to be alone to reflect on the anger fuelled spiel that he’d just delivered. Why didn’t he ever check his mouth before opening it? Why did he always let his anger get the better of him? He really needed to learn how to stay calm and speak through his anger, not because of it. It was almost a mindless reaction now when he was angry to just speak what came to his mind, to blurt out exactly what he was feeling or what had made him angry in the first place. It was almost like he couldn’t control that kneejerk reaction at all.

But on the other hand, he had meant every word that he’d said to Rabastan, but all the same he would be completely devastated if Rabastan decided to break off their contract, which is why he should have controlled his anger better instead of planting the thought to break their contract into Rabastan’s head. He was just so angry, he wanted to help Rabastan so badly, but how could he even begin to help a man who refused to help himself?

Rhadamanthus really had done some serious damage and Harry couldn’t help but wish that the bastard would just fuck off back to India and leave them in peace, but no, the man was hell bent on ruining everything because he was a sadistic prick that took pleasure from maliciously destroying his youngest son and harming him in any way his mind conceived. It was just Harry’s rotten luck that Rhadamanthus was a very intelligent man to boot. His mind could come up with all manner of disgusting, psychological tortures to use on Rabastan and it was a tactic that was damn well working as well.  

There was only so much that he could do to counter that tactic, he saw that now. He could help Rabastan all that he could, he could tell him a thousand times that he loved him, that he wanted to be with him, but in the end it wouldn’t matter, because Rabastan was listening to Rhadamanthus and his fucked up little mind games and not to him and as long as he did so, nothing that Harry said or did would matter at all.

A tear tickled his cheek and he fisted it away angrily as his other hand stroked the super soft white feathers of the peacock in front of him. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

 

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

 

Harry didn’t look around as Lucius came to stand behind him, though more tears fell when a hand went to his hair and tugged gently and rhythmically. The repetitive motion was calming.

 

“Rabastan is inconsolable and Rodolphus is hunting the house for you. Would you mind telling me what happened?”

 

Harry said nothing as more tears fell and he all but hugged the poor peacock to his chest for comfort.

 

“I can’t help you if you suffer alone in silence. What happened tonight to change everything? I thought you and Rabastan were coming on so well.”

 

“I’ve tried my best, but he won’t help himself.” Harry said thickly, his tears having made his voice gruff.

 

Lucius sighed and tugged at his hair hard until Harry had no choice but to stand up, letting the peacock slip through his arms and make it’s hasty escape as he did so. Lucius turned him so that they were face to face and he dug out a handkerchief and dabbed away his tears.

 

“It is almost the middle of the night, in the middle of winter and you are crying out in the gardens. You’ll make yourself sick.” Lucius chastised him as he pulled him towards the house.

 

Harry hesitated as he thought about what everyone would say if they saw him looking like this.

 

“Xerxes and Rabastan are in the front parlour, Draco is in his room, blissfully ignorant of everything that is going on and I believe that Narcissa would have found Rodolphus by now and is explaining to him exactly why he doesn’t want to harm one of her sons, especially not in her own home. Now come along.”

 

They didn’t meet anyone on the way to Lucius’ study and Harry slipped into a chair and remained silent as Lucius sat in the chair beside him, his body turned to face him, instead of in the chair behind his desk as per usual.

 

“Explain to me what happened. Rabastan is saying nothing and all Rodolphus is saying of the matter is that he’s going to find you and curse you until you aren’t recognisable.”

 

Harry said nothing as he gathered his thoughts. Lucius wanted patiently, and then increasingly impatiently for several minutes before he lost his temper.

 

“Speak to me, Harry. Now.”

 

“It started out fine, we were happily walking around the gardens, but then Rabastan started yet again on how much he’s injured me since he’s been here and how I’d be better off with a ‘whole’ man who hadn’t been to Azkaban. I love _him_ , not anyone else. I don’t want him to keep pushing me away and towards other men!” Harry said and suddenly his anger was just there, warm and fierce, and he threw himself up out of the chair and he started pacing furiously, in tight motions. “Why aren’t I enough for him? Why can’t he love me? I don’t want another man! I understand and accept that it’s going to take years for Rabastan to get better and to recover his lost strength and health. I understand and accept that he actually might never be fully recovered, I know what that means for me, for the both of us in the future and I’m prepared for it. It doesn’t matter at all to me, I still love him and I still want him, but he can’t see it! He wants to feel sorry for himself, he doesn’t want to help himself and he keeps pushing me towards ‘whole and undamaged’ men as if my thoughts and feelings mean absolutely nothing to him! He hurts me more when he says things like that than when he accidentally catches me with a hand or foot! When he undermines my thoughts and feelings and my love for him as if they don’t matter at all to him. I refuse to marry a man who doesn’t love me enough to fight for me and I refuse to be with a man who won’t accept that my feelings are important. If he doesn’t want me, doesn’t love me and wants me to be with another man so badly then he should stop saying it and break off the contract himself instead of trying to make me do it so that he can keep on pretending that he’s the victim and I’m the one solely at fault!”

 

“You don’t want him to break off the contract?”

 

“Of course not!” Harry answered immediately. “I love him, but I refuse to be in a loveless marriage! I want a man who will love me and will accept it as the truth when I tell him that I love him. Nothing I say is enough for him, he doesn’t believe a word that I tell him about anything!”

 

“I believe that is his Father’s fault.”

 

Harry snorted. “I know that it’s his fault. Why does he hate Rabastan so much? He doesn’t treat Rodolphus nearly as badly as he does Rabastan, why?”

 

Lucius sighed. “What is the one startling difference between Rabastan and Rodolphus?”

 

Harry blinked as he was caught off guard. His anger simmered down as he thought about the strange question as he tried to think of the answer. It came to him in a moment of insightful clarity.

 

“Their eyes.” He said softly. “They have different coloured eyes.”

 

“Exactly. The Lestranges have predominantly all got brown eyes, Xerxes and Rodolphus have the same dark brown eyes and Rhadamanthus has a pale hazel, all except for Rabastan, who has dark blue eyes. His Mother’s dark blue eyes.”

 

“No.” Harry shook his head, unable to take in what was being hinted at, it was completely inconceivable to him. “Please tell me that Rhadamanthus doesn’t hate Rabastan so much just because of his fucking eye colour!”

 

Lucius glared at him, but said nothing about his use of foul language as he started up his pacing again at a much more violent pace, his tight turns becoming almost jerky as he moved.

 

“Rhadamanthus loved his Wife, he loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her in Hogwarts and he pestered Xerxes to make them a betrothal match.” Lucius said simply. “She wasn’t as keen as he was in the beginning, but her Father refused to allow her out of the betrothal contract as the Lestranges have always been very influential and wealthy and they’re one of the sacred twenty-eight, so they did enter a contract and a courtship and they eventually married.

Rhadamanthus only ever wanted the one child. One son and Heir to carry on his line, so when Rosia gave him Rodolphus, he was a very happy man and Rosia was very happy with her son and thus she began to show more affection towards Rhadamanthus. He was incredibly happy with the family that he had. His beloved Wife was coming to love him in return, he had the one boy child that he’d wanted and everything was perfect in his life. Until Rosia announced that she was pregnant again a little over two years after Rodolphus had been born. Rhadamanthus was not pleased with the news and he tried increasingly desperately to convince Rosia that they didn’t need a second child. He failed miserably as Rosia had always wanted more children and seven months later, when Rosia was into her ninth month of pregnancy, she gave birth to another baby, Rabastan. He was as hefty and as healthy as Rodolphus had been, but in Rhadamanthus’ eyes, he would never measure up, he was an unwanted intrusion into his perfect life and family. Rhadamanthus has never loved Rabastan and he’s never wanted him. He has come to resent Rabastan and that resentment has bred a dark desire to completely destroy him, mentally, physically, it doesn’t matter as long as he causes Rabastan as much pain and torment as possible.”

 

Harry’s fist clenched tight at that and he took longer strides in his pacing, trying to work out the rage that he was feeling, but as Lucius’ story progressed, he was only getting angrier and more worked up. He wanted to find Rhadamanthus and destroy him before he got the chance to destroy Rabastan, which was apparently his life’s only desire and a fervent mission of his. Harry would die before he let that bastard completely crush the already injured and suffering Rabastan. He swore it.

 

“As you can imagine, Rosia kept Rabastan incredibly close to her after his birth, knowing as she did how passionate her Husband had been in terminating Rabastan before his birth. I believe that she even slept in his nursery with him, which naturally, did not best please Rhadamanthus at all. The way that he saw things, Rabastan was coming between him and his beloved Wife who had previously been showing him love and affection, and now suddenly she was sleeping out of his bed and was spending every single moment with this new, unwanted baby. In reality Rosia was just trying to keep her son safe from the anger and hate she could see in her Husband’s eyes. I believe that all of her previous misgivings came flooding back to her and she realised exactly why she hadn’t been keen on the betrothal to Rhadamanthus in the first place.

When she suddenly became sick just a few short months later, Rhadamanthus was distraught and he found her the best possible care, but despite all of the finest medical care and specialist Healers that Galleons could buy, she still died just three weeks after falling ill. Rhadamanthus was unable to deal with her death, so he fled from it to India, leaving a near newborn Rabastan and a three year old Rodolphus in Xerxes’ care. He didn’t come back for twelve years and then it was only to ‘do his duty to his line’.”

 

“He came back just to set up Rodolphus’ betrothal and his future marriage?” Harry asked with a frown.

 

Lucius nodded. “He had forgotten how old Rodolphus was, however. He thought that his son was actually a year older than he really was, not that it stopped him. Rodolphus and Bellatrix didn’t have much of a betrothal, they went almost straight to engagement and then a month later they were married. But as soon as he had trapped Rodolphus into a loveless, hate filled marriage that he didn’t even want with Bellatrix Black, Rhadamanthus flounced back off to India and left Xerxes to deal with the mess that he’d left behind. Xerxes tried everything, and I mean everything, to break the marriage between Rodolphus and Bellatrix, but Rhadamanthus’ wording of the contract had been airtight, Rodolphus had signed and had gone through with the ceremony and the consummation and Bellatrix’s Father, the late Cygnus Black, was very uncooperative. He’d married his oldest and least beautiful daughter to a very prominent family, after all. Why would he want to break their marriage? Especially as Rodolphus had ‘already sullied’ his daughter.”

 

“He actually said that?” Harry grimaced in distaste.

 

“Almost word for word. So Rhadamanthus had ruined his oldest son’s life at just fifteen. He didn’t come back from India again until Rabastan was nineteen. He’d always hated his youngest son, he even blamed Rabastan for his Wife’s death, insisting that it was he who had made her so sick in the first place, but as soon as he saw those eyes, his Wife’s eyes, on Rabastan he made it his mission in life to destroy him as he believed that Rabastan had destroyed his marriage and killed his Wife, at least from the way that he had seen things. Two short years later and Rabastan and Rodolphus were in Azkaban, where they were unreachable by both Rhadamanthus and Xerxes and where they stayed for fifteen long years, but the damage had already been done in those initial two years and Rabastan went into Azkaban thinking that he was lower than dirt and knowing that his Father didn’t want him, didn’t love him and believing fully that he’d killed his own Mother.”

 

“Then he started on Rabastan again, as soon as they were freed.” Harry said, his hand clenching.

 

“Exactly. Xerxes does what he can, but the damage has been done by a lifetime of hate, because despite not being there, he always made sure that Rabastan knew how much he was hated and unwanted. Rhadamanthus’ brand of torture works so very well because it’s the truth, at least to an extent, and the truth always hurts worse than any lie that can be fabricated. Rabastan naturally and subconsciously seeks his Father’s love and approval, which only makes it that much easier for Rhadamanthus to hurt him with the truth that he was unwanted and unloved. Nothing Rabastan does, or has ever done, will ever change Rhadamanthus’ mind, but still he tries and it completes a vicious circle where Rabastan sets himself up for Rhadamanthus’ torture like a pig walking blindly to the slaughter.”

 

“Why can’t he just go back to India and leave us all alone?!” Harry declared, changing the direction of his pacing before he became dizzy and fell down.

 

“Because he wants to see Rabastan dead.” Lucius replied.

 

“Over my dead body!” Harry hissed.

 

“I believe that would make him very happy as well.”

 

Harry muttered under his breath about wanting to kill the vile man as his pacing picked up yet another level of speed. It wasn’t working at all, the pacing was not helping him to calm down his anger. The more he heard, the more he wanted to rage and lash out.

 

“Yes, Xerxes had mentioned that to me, about your desire to kill Rhadamanthus. How serious are these desires, Harry?”

 

Harry looked at Lucius and then looked away again, carrying on his pacing.

 

“That serious, hmm? I knew that you disliked him, you make it plain and obvious enough, but I never thought to that extent. Murder is a crime, Harry. If you’re caught, you will face life in Azkaban for it.”

 

“He is trying to kill the man that I love! His own _son_!” Harry exploded.

 

“Murder is still murder, no matter the reasons. You have too much potential, too much to live for, to throw it all away by killing Rhadamanthus. He would love knowing that he’d ruined your life in such a way, even if you did end up killing him.”

 

Harry had known that Lucius would try to talk him out of killing Rhadamanthus, so he just sighed and nodded his head, sitting back down in the chair in a show of calm. An image of Rhadamanthus harming his child as he’d done to Rabastan popped up and he crushed it viciously. He was still going to go ahead with his plans to kill Rhadamanthus, he just couldn’t tell anyone about them.

 

“If Rabastan does break his betrothal with you, then I have a backup betrothal contract for Thorfinn Rowle.”

 

Harry clenched his jaw so hard that the joint cracked. He didn’t want anyone else!

 

“If he doesn’t break the contract, then there is no reason why you can’t dangle Rowle in front of him. A bit of jealousy is healthy in any relationship. It shows, at the very least, that you both care about one another. It might help to prove to you that Rabastan will fight for you, because I’m very sure that he isn’t going to break the contract because he loves you just as much as you love him. He’s just inept at showing it.”

 

That made Harry smile. “What does Rowle look like, anyway?”

 

Lucius smirked and Harry didn’t like it. “He is an incredibly handsome man. Tall and muscled, he’s blond with blue eyes and though he’s loyal to a fault, he’s fiercely protective of anything he perceives of as his. I didn’t pick him as a first choice because of that. He’d treat you as a possession, not as a person who could think and feel for himself, and I didn’t want that for you.”

 

“He sounds awful.”

 

“Still, a bit of harmless flirting wouldn’t go amiss in this situation. He likes pretty things, so you’re likely to catch his eye regardless.”

 

“Excuse me? When will I catch his eye?” Harry demanded.

 

Lucius’ smirk grew. “My, did we forget to tell you that every year we, the Pureblood society, hold an annual ball on New Year’s Eve?”

 

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I won’t do it.”

 

“You won’t have to do a thing, Harry. Rowle will inevitably spot you at the ball and he’ll be drawn to you. As I said, he likes pretty things. The Lestranges already know that Rowle was in my list of candidates for you. So this little set up should all fall together nicely.”

 

“The New Year is over a week away, what if Rabastan and I make up before then? He could ruin everything!”

 

“If you’ve already made up by the New Year, then it is unlikely that Rowle taking an interest will do either you or Rabastan any harm. If you haven’t made up by then, then he could be just the catalyst that you both need to sort things out.” 

 

“I hope we have made up by New Year…it’s a little over a week away and I don’t think I could stand to stay here for that long if he isn’t speaking to me.”

 

“Go to bed, Harry. We’ll see how things pan out in the morning.”

 

Harry nodded at the clear dismissal and he stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and stopped just before he walked out.

 

“Thank you.” He said quietly. “For everything.”

 

He closed the door behind him and he went to his own rooms. He still didn’t know how things had gotten this bad so quickly, but he did know that if he gave in and apologised, then nothing would be resolved and he and Rabastan would never move forward. He needed them to move forward for the sake of their relationship and the chance of a future together.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry ignored the summons for breakfast the next morning and instead he took a lengthy bath. He’d taken his Ancient Runes book in with him and he easily read several chapters in the hot water before he’d even started on washing himself.

 

“Young master, Master be asking if you are coming down for breakfast.”

 

Harry looked at the elf and he shook his head. “Can’t you see that I’m having a bath? I don’t want breakfast.” 

 

The elf nodded and left him again and Harry rested back against the side of the bath and luxuriated in the still hot water. He really loved magic.

Hammering on the locked bathroom door ten minutes later had him getting angry.

 

“I’m bathing!” He shouted out.

 

“It’s been three hours, Potter. You can’t still be in the bath!” Draco yelled at him. Of course Draco would be the only one egotistical enough to enter his rooms without permission to come and disturb him while he was in the bath.

 

“Well I am. Go away, Draco.”

 

“Stop hiding away!”

 

“I’m not hiding, I’m having a damn bath!”

 

“Tell me what happened!” Draco demanded. “Why has everything changed? I don’t like being out of the loop, I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s happening, tell me!”

 

Harry sighed and he got out of the bath, drying himself with a spell before he tugged on his towelling robe. He opened the door and looked at Draco’s stubbornly set face.

 

“Rabastan doesn’t believe a word that I say.” Harry told Draco as he walked past him and he went straight into his wardrobe to get himself dressed as Draco took a seat on his bed. “I told him to his face that I loved him and he turned around and he told me to go and be with another man! I could have handled him not saying he loved me back, it has only been a short amount of time, after all. I understand that he might be uncomfortable with the idea of love, but to tell me to go to another man! He said I should be with someone who hasn’t been ‘ruined’ by Azkaban. He just doesn’t get that I love _him_! That I want to be with _him_! He doesn’t believe that I love him and he won’t let me help him at all, but most importantly, he won’t even try to help himself. I’m so frustrated with him, Draco.”

 

“So you’re going to give up?” Draco asked sceptically.

 

Harry actually laughed. “Merlin, no. I’m just going to show him that he has to take me seriously or I will walk away. Father thinks I should… _tease_ him with Thorfinn Rowle. Apparently he’s coming for the New Year’s Eve party?”

 

Draco bobbed his head. “It’s basically a social gathering for Purebloods, of a certain standard.”

 

“You mean Pureblood Death Eaters.” Harry corrected as he yanked on his chosen clothes and came out to join Draco on the bed.

 

Draco winced, but he nodded his head.

 

“Do you think it’ll work?” Harry asked him.

 

“It could do. Rowle is handsome and clever, but he’s very possessive. You should have seen him when he first saw me for the first time. I was twelve, it was the first party I had been allowed to attend as I was finally old enough and the moment his eyes landed on me, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He hounded my Father for the next two years trying to set up a betrothal between us.”

 

“But you don’t have the gene.” Harry said with slight shock that Rowle obviously didn’t care about little pureblood heirs. He was one of the sacred twenty-eight families as well, the only male Rowle left! It should have been one of the only things he cared about.

 

“Ah, you see, that was my Father’s problem with the contract too. Rowle had written a stipulation into the contract. That the both of us could each have a chosen Pureblood mistress to birth our heirs for us. I was to be his Husband by law, but the way I see it now, I would have been a married pet to him while he went and had sex with his chosen mistress. With how possessive he is, I doubt I would have even seen my so called mistress.”

 

Harry actually laughed. “Seriously? Oh hell, I bet Lucius was not happy about that.”

 

“He wasn’t and neither was Mother. I was a little too young to understand what was going on at the time, but now that I’m older and I look back on it, I can’t believe the audacity of him. He would not be a good Husband for you.”

 

“Or anyone.” Harry stated.

 

“Maybe Daphne.” Draco amended. “But he definitely is not Husband material for _my_ brother. I will not have Rowle in my family.”

 

Harry laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, I know that we won’t be seeing that come about, he sounds dreadful. As for Daphne, well I actually like Theodore and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that just because his Father wants a claim on the Greengrass fortune. Maybe we should push her at Rowle. It would be no less than she deserves.”

 

“His Father has been obsessed with money ever since he invested a lot of gold in the wrong stocks. He thought of himself as a genius investor and delighted in ‘giving advice’ to everyone and he claimed to be giving them hints and imparting his ‘wisdom’ onto everyone else. He put the majority of his gold into this new, upcoming company and he started hinting to everyone else that it was going to be the next big thing and that it was going to make them all millions. Father always refused to buy stocks in most of Nott’s little imparted hints, though he did sometimes humour the man when it suited him. But this one venture he outright refused to put his gold into and he advised many others to do the same. He could read in the market what was going to happen, so when it did crash, spectacularly, many of the Lords owed him a debt of gratitude. Nott lost almost everything and he’s been trying to regain his fortune and his former status ever since.”

 

“And he thinks forcing his son to marry a girl like Daphne is going to help?” Harry asked sceptically.

 

Draco snorted. “Obviously so. It will get him a good amount of gold at any rate. Harvey Greengrass knows very well what his older daughter is like and is fully aware of how she behaves, despite his attempts at curbing her, so he’ll be willing to pay through the teeth to ensure her a good match. Despite his lack of intelligence and his lack of wealth, the Nott family is still a prominent and pure one.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “So who else doesn’t have a match, or are my options really between just Rabastan and Thorfinn?”

 

Draco frowned consideringly. “Blaise doesn’t have a match, but he’s outside of the sacred twenty-eight.”

 

“What, why doesn’t Blaise have a match?” Harry asked, this news having shocked him a little. “I’ve been glaring at him for sleeping with that Ravenclaw.”

 

Draco snorted in amusement. “I know, it has been quite amusing to see you chastising him for so much as looking at another person when he isn’t betrothed like the rest of us, but luckily he sees the funny side of it too. His Mother, however, never wanted to limit him in such a way. She wants him to choose his own match.”

 

“Really?” Harry asked in total surprise.

 

“She was matched by her parents and it was a very bad match. Her husband was cruel and abusive and she had no way to get out of the marriage and she worried constantly about him hurting Blaise as well, she saw no other option. She killed him and covered it up and now she can’t trust any man and often gets frightened and ends up killing them too as she’s paranoid that they’ll kill her and Blaise if she doesn’t do so first. She doesn’t want that life for Blaise, so she’s letting him choose his own spouse, though she has stipulated that they must be Pureblooded.”

 

Harry nodded, still a little shell shocked at what he had learnt. It seemed he owed Blaise an apology for glaring and nagging him about going off with his Ravenclaw conquest.

 

“Amycus Carrow doesn’t have a match either, but you really don’t want to be matched to him, Harry. He makes Bellatrix look sane and I think he’s having a sexual relationship with his own sister, Alecto. They’re both odd and very touchy around one another and at one of the social gatherings a few years ago, Alecto got very drunk and kissed her brother full on the mouth. They tried to play it off and laugh it away, but I seriously think that there’s something going on there between them. Lucan Selwyn is looking for a new spouse too, but he’s seventy years old and already has four children, unfortunately for him, they’re all girls and all ugly, so he hasn’t been able to match them to anyone, even Goyle’s family turned one of them down and Selwyn gave them a choice of which one they wanted. He’s looking for a new spouse now so that he can try and get a son, or at the very least a better looking daughter that he can match up to get heirs to his line. The Selwyn’s will be extant only in the female line if he dies without a legitimate male heir. It’s every Pureblood Lord’s nightmare to know that you are the last male of your line and you run the risk of making your own name and house extinct.”

 

“So really, those are my only options?” Harry grimaced in distaste.

 

“Well, you remember Marcus Flint don’t you? He’s just thrown his Fiancée out on her arse. They were engaged and about to be married in March, I think. Anyway, he caught her in bed with a foreign Pureblood who had come to see him on work related business. The wizard was staying at his manor for the week because Marcus still needed to be in work at the time, so he opened his home to this wizard, let him eat his food, trusted him and he just happened to come home really early one afternoon and he caught them in the act. He beat the wizard almost to death with his fists, then he cursed him to never be able to close his mouth and threw him out of his manor. Then Marcus kept his would be Wife locked up for four days. No one knows what he did to her, but she came out unharmed with no signs of any magical abuse, but Marcus is very happy and she bursts into tears if she so much as sees his picture. As for the wizard, I believe that the Healers are still trying to find a counter curse for the one that Marcus cast, the man can’t eat or drink anything, has trouble sleeping and breathing and he can’t talk. He’s getting weaker by the day and Father thinks that that is Marcus’ real revenge, he gets to die a slow, painful death knowing that the Healers can’t help him and that the one person who could perhaps help him, Marcus, isn’t going to.”

 

“I’m not sure whether his Fiancée deserved whatever he did or not because I’m not entirely sure what he did to her. But if I caught Rabastan in bed with anyone while we were engaged I would not be happy either. It’s why I get so angry with Daphne and her ridiculous behaviour and why I was unhappy with Blaise.”

 

“Then Marcus is another potential match for you. He’s protective more than he’s possessive and he has his own manor house. He actually bought it himself with his own money instead of it being a wedding gift from his parents.”

 

“Really? He was so thick he had to repeat a year, how did he get his own manor house?”

 

“He had to repeat a year because he failed in most of his core subjects in his final exams. He is incredibly proficient in Runes however. As you know, Runes are very difficult to master and jobs that use Runes are very high paying. Marcus was so skilful and talented in Runes that when he surpassed the N.E.W.T level curriculum in his fifth year, he gained the attention of specialists. He was so focused on Runes, that everything else fell to the way side, so he inevitably failed his last year, but when he actually did graduate a year later, he already had a job waiting for him when he got out and it wasn’t an entry level job either. He went straight in as a specialist and he’s been climbing the promotion ranks since.”

 

“Wow. He’s only been out of Hogwarts for what, a year and a half?”

 

“Exactly, and he already has his own manor and the title of special consultant. Not to mention he’s on a very, very large salary.”

 

Harry laughed. “I think I need to apologise to him for thinking that he was as stupid as Crabbe and Goyle for all these years.”

 

“He does lack a certain amount of common sense and he is quite stupid when it comes to anything other than Runes, so I doubt any apology is needed. You’ll see him at the Parkinson’s winter gala tonight.”

 

“Wait, what? What winter fucking gala?” Harry demanded.

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “This is a season of celebration, Harry. The Parkinson’s are hosting the winter gala this year and we are hosting the New Year’s Eve party, Father managed to beat the other Lords back and claim this honour over everyone else because of you. All the other Lords are very curious about you and I think that they worried that if they didn’t give Father hosting privileges this year then he would stop you from going and they wouldn’t get to sate their curiosities by meeting you.”

 

Harry flumped back onto his bed. “Seriously? Two parties in what, a week? Plus Christmas is tomorrow as well.”

 

Draco moved to sit next to him and smirked. “It won’t be so bad. The Parkinson’s were given hosting privileges before Pansy lost her betrothal match, usually such an embarrassment would have the family being overlooked for such an honour. It’s going to be hilarious to watch them overcompensate tonight for the humiliation while they proposition every wizard who doesn’t already have a match to take on Pansy for a Wife.”

 

“You’re very sadistic.” Harry told his brother, who grinned at him and pushed him to sit up.

 

“It’s all a part of the culture that I’ve grown up in. Social standing is everything in these circles, Harry.” Draco told him as he picked up a comb and started doing his hair for him. “Nothing comes before our family.”

 

Harry smiled at that. “I like that family is so important, it’s just…I can’t imagine being so cruel to others just to make me and my family look better.”

 

“That’s just the way it is.” Draco replied dismissively as he sorted out Harry’s hair.

 

“Will you help me get dressed for tonight?” Harry asked unsurely. “I don’t know what to wear and I don’t want to make a fool out of myself.” He didn’t mention that he wanted to look his best to try and entice Rabastan’s attention to him.

 

“Your wardrobe will include three winter dress robes for these occasions. One for the Christmas Eve party, one for the New Year’s Eve party and one spare, just in case. I used my spare set of dress robes in our fourth year for the Yule Ball.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding, only to be smacked on top of his head by Draco and his comb. A loud knock on the outside door interrupted them.

 

Harry groaned. “That better not be Rabastan.” He muttered under his breath. “Come in.” He called out loudly as Draco continued doing his hair for him.

 

They had to wait a moment as whoever it was walked through Harry’s sitting room to reach his bedroom, but Harry was overall glad that it was Lucius who was the one who walked in and he hesitated only slightly as he saw them on the bed together as he slowly closed the bedroom door behind him.

 

“I came because I thought that you were moping around. It seems that that wasn’t the case.”

 

“Why would I be moping about? If Rabastan doesn’t want me, then it’s his loss.” He said firmly.

 

“That’s the spirit.” Draco nodded his approval as he finished combing Harry’s hair to the best of his abilities.

 

“So you’re seriously considering breaking your betrothal?” Lucius asked surprised.

 

Harry shook his head. “No. Our talk from last night still stands. If he doesn’t want me, then he’ll have to break our contract himself, until then, I’m going to fish the waters at the gala tonight, that you never told me about I might add, and if he still hasn’t bucked up his ideas, I’ll do the same at the New Year’s Eve party.”

 

Lucius nodded. “I’m not sure that you’ll have a chance to implement your plan. Rabastan was devastated that you never showed up for breakfast. It seemed to agitate him and it seems to have affected his behaviour as well, he broke two glasses, dropped his food onto the floor and hit his own brother when he lost control of his arm.”

 

Harry bit his lip and immediately the feelings of guilt and regret surged inside him. The very last thing he’d wanted was to cause a lapse in Rabastan’s recovery when he’d been doing so well lately.

 

“It’s not your fault.” Draco told him sternly. “He’s the one who won’t listen to you. He needs to learn to listen to you or he is never going to respect you and he’ll never listen to a word that you say if you give in now. Carry through with your plan or he’s just going to continue ignoring you and disbelieving everything that you say, even about you loving him.”

 

“But I never wanted to be the cause of him getting worse.”

 

“You’re not the cause.” Lucius told him. “He is the cause and he will never fully recover if he doesn’t realise it.”

 

Harry swallowed and nodded.

 

“Now, you missed breakfast and it’s almost lunch. Are you hungry?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No. I’m just not hungry at all today.”

 

“Perhaps I should call that therapist to see if he’ll see you today.” Lucius murmured thoughtfully.

 

“I don’t need a therapist just because I’m not hungry.” Harry said.

 

“I’m more concerned about the reason behind you not being hungry.” Lucius replied.

 

“I’m fine. I just can’t stomach anything. I can’t believe how wrong everything has gone.”

 

“Things will work out.” Draco assured him.

 

Harry nodded, but he didn’t feel as confident about it. He still loved Rabastan, he didn’t think such a feeling would disappear overnight, just as it hadn’t come overnight, but the thought of trying to replace Rabastan with anyone else made him feel sick.

 

“You’re not going to be marrying these men.” Lucius told him. “You’re just going to talk to them, be polite and perhaps let them get you a drink. Then if the natural order of things occurs, then Rabastan should storm over and remind everyone that the both of you are betrothed.”

 

“What if he doesn’t?”

 

“Then the man’s a complete fool and you should definitely scout out someone else to be your Husband.” Draco told him simply.

 

Harry laughed then and he thanked both Malfoys. He actually felt much better for talking with them.

 

“Are you both staying in here? I’ll have the elf send up your lunches, if you eat your lunch, Harry, then I won’t call the therapist to see you today.”

 

“We’re staying.” Draco said firmly. “Look at this hair. It’ll take me all day to fix for the Parkinson’s gala.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “As if it’ll stay whichever way you put it.” He huffed.

 

“I’ll sort it out for you. I picked up a potion especially for tonight and our own New Year’s party.” Draco insisted.

 

“I’ll leave you boys to it then.”

 

Lucius saw himself out and Harry breathed out and slumped. “Must I really go to this party? I like Pansy more than Daphne, but she’s not my favourite person. Tracey is much more level headed and she’s quieter.”

 

Draco laughed. “She is more watchful than mouthy, but don’t turn your back on her. She can be dangerous with her wand.”

 

Harry smiled. “What do you think of Astoria, Draco?” He asked curiously, wondering if everyone had trouble with their betrothals.

 

Draco frowned. “I’ve never really thought about it. Our parents brought us together for play dates when we were children and then when I went to Hogwarts I sent her the occasional letter and now that we’re both in Hogwarts, we sit down after dinner once or twice a week to talk for an hour to fulfil the terms of the contract.”

 

“That’s not really what I asked. Do you even like her?”

 

“She’s not too bad I suppose.” Draco answered. “She’s nothing like Daphne, thank Merlin, but she’s not very talkative either. I have to struggle to get her to say anything. I don’t think she’s that interested in me.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I remember what Hermione was like with Viktor Krum. He liked her because she was the only person in Hogwarts who wasn’t fawning over him because he was an international Quidditch player, but she was really embarrassed and shy and it took him a while to get her to talk. Do you know what Astoria likes? Perhaps if you talked about her interests then you’d have more luck.”

 

Draco shrugged. “She reads Witch Weekly, she likes keeping up with the latest robe colours, cuts and patterns, and I think she once said she likes interior decorating.”

 

“Please tell me that you don’t just talk about yourself when you’re with her.”

 

“Well she doesn’t talk.” Draco scoffed. “What am I supposed to talk about?”

 

“How about shutting your mouth and letting her talk?” Harry suggested with a grin. “If she likes interior decorating, show a bit of bloody interest.”

 

“But I don’t have any interest!” Draco answered.

 

“That’s not the point at all.” Harry said. “It’s called being supportive and showing that you care about her thoughts and interests, that’s why Rabastan and I are having trouble. Because he isn’t listening to me and he’s brushing aside my thoughts and feelings. Just, try asking her how she is or how her day has been once in a while.”

 

Draco nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. I’ll make the time to do so tonight. But don’t try to distract me, I will be getting that potion onto your hair.”

 

Harry laughed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll let you do as you please with it, but if I don’t like it, I’m putting it back to normal.”

 

“Your hair will never be normal.” Draco said seriously.

 

They were interrupted by the arrival of a house elf with a bowl of food in each hand.

 

“Thank you.” Harry said kindly while Draco just scoffed and snatched his bowl.

 

“You’re too soft.” Draco scoffed at him.

 

“You’re an utter bastard.” Harry replied. “It won’t kill you to be polite once in a while.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes, but he ate his lunch and Harry dug into his own bowl of fancy beef stew with warm, fresh bread rolls. He would stay in his rooms with Draco and he’d get ready for the party tonight. He was a little apprehensive about everything, as he knew he’d have to be on his best behaviour, which meant behaving like a Pureblooded Lord of two houses. He sighed. He’d have to behave like he did in the Wizengamot meetings and that was going to be difficult for him to maintain for more than a few hours, less than that depending on how bored he was or how other people acted towards him. It was going to be a long, exhausting night.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was dressed in the softest, most sumptuous and expensive dress robes that he’d ever imagined himself wearing. They were a brilliant red colour and made from brushed cotton. They were light, but warm and with a fitted black shirt and tailored, smart trousers on underneath, they looked wonderful.

He and Draco had spent most of the afternoon talking to one another and laying out a plan of action, which had mostly just been Draco talking while Harry laughed until his stomach hurt.

Draco had helped him get ready, had paired the black on black underclothes before laying the red robe over the top for a glare of colour to stop him from looking like he was attending a funeral, or worse, like Snape’s mini me.

The earthy red made his cheeks look more flushed than they actually were as it picked out the warm undertones of gold in his skin and he just looked healthy, youthful and full of life, he thought as he stared at himself in the mirror.

Draco had dumped a load of potions into his hair, one to make it soft and shiny, another to make it more tamed and a final one to style it. Harry had to hand it to Draco, he could definitely become a hairdresser if he wanted to. His hair looked shiny, sleek and was styled to be tousled instead of just plain messy. Draco had tried to make it lay flat and when that had failed he had tried to slick it back, but when that hadn’t worked either he had compromised and worked with Harry’s natural hairstyle to make his hair look a little windswept. Harry rather liked the effect.

 

“Are you ready? We’re going an hour early to catch up with the other ‘kids’.” Draco told him, rolling his eyes at the stressed ‘kids’.

 

“Yeah, do I look okay?” He asked nervously.

 

“You look perfectly presentable, now come on. I need to try and catch up with Blaise before we greet Pansy.”

 

They met Narcissa in the receiving room and she straightened out both of their collars, even though they didn’t need it.

 

“You boys behave at this party, do you understand?”

 

“Yes Mother.” They both answered respectfully.

 

“Draco, you go through first and you wait for Harry on the other end, do you hear me?”

 

Draco nodded with a smirk that was aimed at him and Harry rolled his eyes, but he was glad. The last thing he wanted was to be lost in an unfamiliar manor house, he’d only just gotten used to the Malfoy manor.

 

“You look lovely, Harry.” Narcissa told him. She was being a little strange as her small hands brushed over his robe. “Very presentable. Remember your manners tonight and behave yourself, but try to enjoy it too.”

 

Narcissa shooed him off and Harry flooed over to the Parkinson’s. Harry hadn’t seen Rabastan once that day…in fact he hadn’t seen any of the Lestranges that day, but he was sure that he’d be seeing them in an hour or so.

He arrived at the Parkinson’s manor and Draco was stood waiting for him, as soon as Harry stepped out of the fireplace, he snorted and shook his head. Harry realised then that there was no one to receive them.

 

“This is ridiculous, someone should be here to greet us.” Draco scoffed before leading the way out of the receiving room and he went right up the stairs.

 

Harry was a little apprehensive about this, he wouldn’t have liked anyone just arriving in his house and walking around without him knowing about it, but then if he was going to be hosting a massive social event in his home he would have been sure to greet people in the receiving room, if only to direct them where to go once they arrived. Narcissa had taught him that much.

 

Draco led them down numerous corridors before hammering on a door. It opened to reveal Pansy in a beautiful gown of peridot. The pale green went well with her short, black hair and the peridot necklace, bracelet and earrings added a touch of repetitive colour to her pale skin and contrasting dark hair.

 

“You look lovely.” Harry complimented her naturally and she and Draco both looked at him in surprise before Draco stood back and looked at her properly.

 

“Harry’s right, you do look nice tonight. Is anyone else here yet?”

 

“Daphne, Astoria, Blaise and Theo are already here, come inside.”

 

They went into the bedroom and Harry realised that it was just a very, very large bedroom. Where his, and Draco’s, bedrooms were split into three rooms, Pansy’s was just one massive room with a very large bed at one end and a seating area around an ornate fireplace at the other.

 

“You look good enough to eat, Harry.” Blaise teased him and Harry laughed.

 

“My tailor picked out the colours and made my entire wardrobe, so I have him to thank for the robes and Draco dressed me. I take no credit for the way that I look tonight.”

 

“You look nice, Astoria.” Draco complimented his betrothed, being reminded of his need to do so after Harry had complimented their host and remembering suddenly his promise to talk to her more.

 

Harry looked at the young fourteen year old wearing a pale blue dress that went wonderfully with her long blonde hair and her matching blue eyes. She was wearing dark sapphires to contrast with the pale blue of the dress and it looked fantastic.

 

“Draco’s right, you look good.” Harry told her with a smile as he noticed the matching, small heeled shoes she was wearing. “Very elegant and sophisticated.”

 

Astoria flushed with pleasure at the attention she was getting, which Harry assumed was mostly given to Daphne, and of course for being called ‘sophisticated’. What fourteen year old didn’t want to be praised on looking grown up, after all?

Daphne in contrast was wearing a knee length gown, which Harry guessed had been forced onto her by her parents, but it was the low cut of the top of the dress and the strappy heels she was wearing that made her so different to her younger sister. 

 

“Hi, Theo.” He greeted instead as he sat himself next to Theodore, who was wearing dark blue and black dress robes.

 

“Blaise is right, you’re looking really good tonight, is it for the benefit of your betrothed?”

 

Harry sighed. “No. Rabastan and I are having…problems.” He said.

 

“What sort of problems?” Blaise asked in friendly concern.

 

“Not so easy to be in a contract now, is it?” Daphne said snidely.

 

Harry just looked at her neutrally before purposefully snubbing her and focusing back on Blaise and Theodore. He’d learnt that move from Lucius at the Wizengamot meetings and it always worked a treat.

 

“Just a few complications from his previous Azkaban stay and his Father, that’s all.”

 

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Theo told him.

 

“He’s dressed to find himself another betrothal match.” Draco put in. “The Malfoy family deserves better than someone who isn’t interested. If Lestrange doesn’t buck up, then Harry will be betrothed to someone else.”

 

“Perhaps we could…” Pansy started before Draco cut her right off.

 

“You’re not worthy of my brother.” He told her cruelly.

 

“I’m gay, Pansy.” He said more gently. “I have the gene and I want another man to marry.”

 

“You’ll both be competing with one another then.” Daphne said gleefully at the idea. 

 

Harry rolled his eyes, but he saw Pansy’s face fall at the thought, then she got a calculating gleam in her eyes that Harry really didn’t like. He hoped that he wasn’t about to have his leg broken or something due to an ‘accidental’ fall down the main flight of stairs.

A knock on her bedroom door and Pansy left to go and greet someone else, who turned out to be Millicent Bulstrode. Harry tried not to cringe at the sight of the tall, broad, almost square shaped girl being confined in a mandarin satin dress. He was sure that it would have looked lovely on absolutely anyone else. The dress did absolutely nothing to flatter her, it wasn’t the right cut for her body shape and the colour was completely wrong for her skin tone, hair and eye colour. Whoever had chosen the dress for her, whether it was the seamstress, her parents or Millicent herself, they really needed to put more thought into such things in the future.

 

“What do you think?” Blaise leaned forward to whisper into his, Draco’s and Theo’s ears. “Would you rather fuck her face to face in that dress, or suck off Dumbledore.”

 

The three of them all made disgusted noises and pulled faces and Draco pushed a laughing Blaise away.

 

“That is utterly foul.” Draco insisted as Pansy and Millicent did the whole girl greeting at the opposite end to the large room.

 

“I know one thing for sure.” Harry said, pausing to gain the guys’ full attention. “I’d look better in that dress.”

 

That set the four of them off laughing, loudly. He got a hand on the knee as Theo bent forward, trying to hold himself up. Draco flung an arm around his shoulders and Blaise punched his shoulder, his purple eyes wet with tears of mirth. Harry just laughed and revelled in the feeling of being accepted, despite the odd circumstances. He was the only Gryffindor here after all.

The door knocked again before Pansy and Millicent could make it over and Pansy opened the door again to let in the lumbering forms of Crabbe and Goyle. The boys greeted Pansy and Millicent and then came right on over, the two girls following.

 

“Are we waiting for anyone else?” He asked curiously.

 

“No, the adults have started milling about downstairs, though.” Pansy told him.

 

They spoke to one another, laughing and joking, Harry keeping mostly to Draco, Blaise and Theo, but when he noticed something that didn’t sit right with him, he nudged Draco and nodded to a totally excluded Astoria, who was staring at the group of older girls on her left in an imitation of being included in their conversation, despite all of their backs being turned to her. It must have been awful for her to be sat on her own as everyone else formed groups around her, it was only because she was the youngest, he was sure.

 

“Astoria, I feel like a drink. Would you mind accompanying me down to the ballroom?” Draco stood to ask, offering her his hand.

 

The younger girl looked so pleased at the offer as she accepted Draco’s hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet before she brushed the back of her dress down and agreed to accompany him. She slipped her arm through Draco’s and they both left Pansy’s bedroom to go down to the ballroom that would, by now, be filling up with the adults.

 

“I suppose that it’s time to go down now.” Pansy said as she stood and checked her reflection in her mirror before leading the way.

 

Harry walked with Theo and Blaise, laughing happily. At least until he reached the ballroom, because it was nearly impossible to miss Xerxes, he was towering over everyone else and Harry knew, that if Xerxes was here, then so too were Rhadamanthus, Rodolphus and Rabastan. He immediately turned and walked in the opposite direction.

 

“Are you okay?” Blaise asked him, turning with him to follow.

 

Harry smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the people staring at him.

 

“Yes, Draco went for a drink, so if he’s anywhere, he’s going to be at the drinks table.”

 

“Good thinking. I saw you trying to play match maker.” Blaise winked at him.

 

“I just thought that it was sad that Astoria would be excluded just because she’s younger. She is Draco’s betrothed after all. I just gave him a shove in the right direction. A shove that shouldn’t have been needed as he should have taken the initiative and done it first, without any prompting, I might add. She’s his betrothed, he should have noticed her needs before I did.”

 

Blaise wrapped an arm around him and pulled him to the drinks table, where they found Draco and a very happy Astoria in a discussion about the latest home styles.

 

“Would you…would you allow me to decorate our home when we’re married?” They arrived to overhear Astoria ask a little timidly.

 

“Of course.” Draco replied amiably. “As long as I can have a personal study to my tastes.” He compromised and Harry beamed at him for taking his advice and showing an interest in Astoria’s interests.

 

“Oh Draco, thank you.” Astoria gushed. “I’m thinking more and more that I want to do home decorations as well as robe and dress making.”

 

“I think you’ll be very successful with that.” Harry told her, smiling as she spun around startled. “You obviously know how to put an outfit together, perhaps you could use Draco to trial your robe making skills.”

 

Astoria’s face lit up and she turned back to Draco shyly “Would you let me practice my robe making skills?”

 

“I don’t see why not, but I have particular tastes and my colouring makes for very few combinations that don’t look ridiculous.”

 

“I would of course take in all of your opinions and wishes.” Astoria said excitedly.

 

“You never know. I might be bringing my children to you in the future to get their robes.” Harry teased.

 

“Is it true that you have the gene?” Astoria asked. “It’s been so long since a boy has been born with the gene and I overheard what you said to Pansy.”

 

Harry nodded. “Yes, I tested positive. It helps that I like men too.”

 

“I’m a man.” Blaise said with a smirk.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “What happened to your Ravenclaw?” Harry asked.

 

“I was going to keep her for a few more months, but if I had you, I’d get rid of her immediately. After all, you’d be a betrothal match, not just a girlfriend.”

 

“I feel so special.” Harry said with heavy sarcasm.

 

“Oh no. Rowle’s spotted you, Harry.” Draco said, looking high over his head. “He’s coming right over.”

 

“Damn. It hasn’t even been ten minutes yet!” Harry groaned before he weaved his way past Draco and snatched a drink before diving into the mingling people.

 

He evaded Rowle while making mindless small talk for a full half an hour, which Harry thought was quite impressive, but ultimately, he almost barrelled into the man after he’d stopped at a table to refill his glass.

 

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you since the beginning of the night.”

 

Harry looked up at the tall, blond, blue eyed man. He was broad and muscled and if he had to guess, Harry would have put him in his early to mid-thirties. He was very, very good looking and his eyes were all over Harry, taking in the tailored cut of his robes which accentuated his trim waist and the slim line of his body.

Harry calmed himself, took a deliberate breath and took a moment to peruse Rowle slowly as he slipped into his ‘Lord’ persona that he used in the Wizengamot. He’d been slipping in and out of this persona since the party had begun and he had used it in all his previous conversations when meeting up with other members of the Wizengamot, who all wanted to introduce him to their Wives, children, brothers and friends, it was tiring.

 

“I’m not exactly hard to miss.” Harry replied calmly as he indicated the bright red robes that he was wearing. He was the only one tonight wearing red and the only thing that came closest to his robes was Millicent’s mandarin orange dress and a few spots of pink here or there from some of the women’s dresses.

 

“It is a lovely colour on you.” Rowle complimented easily. “It brings out a nice flush to your cheeks, unless you’ve been sneaking wine.” He joked.

 

Harry laughed politely. “No, just pumpkin juice for me. I have no wish to kill off my brain cells before I’m even an adult.”

 

“It’s refreshing to meet someone so young who recognises that they’re not adults yet. Most of the little shin lickers here tonight would insist that they’re mature, in the process proving just how immature they actually are. By recognising that you still have room to grow, well…I think that you’re the most mature person in this room who is actually under the age of seventeen.”

 

“Thank you. It helps that I sit on the Wizengamot.”

 

“Ah, yes. Spending that amount of time around a table with very old men has the tendency to age people.”

 

Harry couldn’t stop the genuine laugh that came out. 

 

“You came over to get a drink, may I have the honour of refilling your glass?”

 

Harry nodded and watched as Rowle took his empty glass from his hand and refilled it with the jug of pumpkin juice. He handed it back and his hand lingered longer than strictly necessary.

 

“I’m Thorfinn, everyone just calls me Finn, however.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Harry.”

 

Thorfinn laughed. “You are probably the single most known person in this room. Everyone knows about you and your adoption.”

 

Harry nodded. “The papers have been going on about it a lot.” He replied ambiguously. Of course he knew Rowle was talking about Voldemort and his current orders for his Death Eaters, but Harry didn’t want to ruin his night so early on by thinking about it.

 

“Indeed. So, I suppose you already have a betrothal match?”

 

“I do. Rabastan Lestrange and I are betrothed together.”

 

“You could do so much better than him.” Rowle insisted. “I always thought that Lucius was punishing you by pairing you with that old cripple. I’ll have a word with him and see if he won’t reconsider.”

 

Harry frowned and blinked as Rowle looked around the room, before he patted Harry’s shoulder and walked away determinedly, apparently he’d spotted Lucius. Harry turned to look at him walking away and he was sure that he was gaping. Rowle had asked about his betrothal despite apparently already knowing about it and now instead of asking him if he liked Rabastan and wanted to be betrothed to him, he was assuming that he didn’t and was taking it upon himself to ‘liberate’ Harry in order to be betrothed to him himself.

He definitely understood what Lucius and Draco had meant by possessive…they’d only just met one another and Rowle was already treating him as if he couldn’t think for himself. It didn’t bode well for anyone who married Rowle in the future, but he knew that it definitely wouldn’t be him!

He shook his head in bemusement and moved off, greeting some of the Lords he knew from the Wizengamot politely and allowing himself to again be introduced to their Wives or children. Really it seemed that that’s all they wanted to do tonight was introduce him to everyone under the sun that they knew.

He smiled the most at the shy preteens, he knew from Draco that these were adult parties and that it was incredibly unlikely that anyone under the age of eleven would be there, so he was extra kind to them when he did see some twelve year olds and there was one newborn sleeping in a tiny little gown in her Mother’s arms.

This entire gala seemed to be over the top and extravagant. There were ice sculptures everywhere, depicting winter animals that he assumed were magically made and hollow. Everywhere he looked there were frosted glass tables holding an array of drinks in frosted glasses and every canapé and appetiser ever invented on frosted glass plates. Everything was white and glittered oddly, like freshly fallen snow and the massive glass doors on the one side of the ball room were flung open into the softly lit garden beyond. Draco was right, it was very over the top and gaudily showy.

 

“I will not allow you to speak of my brother in such a manner!”

 

Harry turned automatically as he heard the furious voice of Rodolphus and now that he looked, he could see the man hissing at Rowle. Lucius had been standing with the Lestranges when Rowle had gone to proposition Lucius, it seemed and instead of taking Lucius off for a private conversation, he’d just mentioned taking Harry’s contract from Rabastan in front of the entire Lestrange family. Harry really didn’t like Rowle and he was glad that Lucius hadn’t lumbered him with a betrothal to him.

 

“I’m just saying that someone as young, supple and gorgeously stunning as Harry deserves better than some spluttering old cripple from Azkaban.” Rowle said simply.

 

“And what does Harry say about this?” Lucius said calmly, as if considering the proposal.

 

“He likes me.” Thorfinn boasted.

 

Harry looked from his vantage point behind the back of a very old man who seemed to be mostly deaf and half asleep on his feet. Rabastan was standing behind and between Rodolphus and Xerxes saying nothing and that angered Harry. He wanted Rabastan to fight for him, to fight for their future, but he was just stood there, as if considering the proposal himself.

 

“Say something, Rabastan!” Xerxes burst out furiously.

 

“If it’s what Harry wants.” He said quietly.

 

“It is.” Rowle declared. “How could you possibly think that he’d prefer _you_ over me?” He sneered and indicated his own face and body. “I can offer him this, you would likely break your own back trying to lift him and he’s such a tiny little wisp of nothing that I could lift him with one arm. He deserves only the best.”

 

Rabastan said nothing and Harry balled his fists up. He’d have to deal with this himself it seemed.

 

“If Harry agrees to it.” Lucius told Rowle, neither accepting nor declining his proposal.

 

“Of course he will, it’s a better deal.” Rowle said cockily. “I at least would be able to pleasure him properly.”

 

Harry smarted at the disrespect and the attack of his dignity and he would have expected Rabastan to immediately jump to his defence, but he didn’t. Lucius was just about to remind Rowle that Harry was his son, adopted or not, when Harry decided that it was time to take things into his own hands.

 

“How dare you say such things about me!” He hissed.

 

“There you are.” Rowle smiled at him. “I was just sealing the deal with your adoptive Father.”

 

“I just heard what you said about me.” He growled.

 

“It’s alright. Everyone here knows that I’d be able to satisfy you. That cripple wouldn’t even be able to pull a moan from your pretty lips. Unless it was one of pain, of course.”

 

Harry’s hands clenched so tightly his whole arm shook with the tension. He tried to breathe deeply to calm himself, but his temper was too roused to be calmed.

 

“How dare you.” He bit out from between clenched teeth. “I am not some bed slave given to you merely for your pleasure. I deserve better than that from a betrothal. I want someone to talk to, someone to start a family with, to spend my life with…not merely someone who thinks that my only use is in the bedroom!”

 

“There’s no need to get so angry over such a comment. I take pride in the knowledge that I’d be able to pleasure you.”

 

Harry didn’t even think as he ripped his wand out of his sleeve and sent Rowle flying halfway across the room to smash into one of the gaudy ice sculptures. It wasn’t hollow as he’d initially thought, it was solid ice and Rowle left a blood smear on it as he fell to the floor, unconscious. Harry hadn’t even uttered a spell, he hadn’t had time to think of one, his magic had just immediately reacted to his rage.

 

“If that man comes anywhere near me again then he’ll lose his head.” Harry told Lucius before turning to glare at Rabastan. “Way to stand up and defend me. So much for being betrothed.” He spat before turning on his heel and striding off.

 

He went outside to cool off, walking around the wooden decking at the back of the house and several minutes later he found himself sat on a low stone banister that boxed in a patio seating area before leading out onto the lawn.

 

“Way to keep your calm, Harry.” He chastised himself as he growled and fisted his hair in frustration.

 

That wasn’t how he wanted people to see him. As some angry thug who attacked people at parties. Damn it he was supposed to be a Lord of two houses, he held two seats on the Wizengamot and he couldn’t even control his own anger. It was pathetic.

He was trying to convince people that he was suitable to sit in on the wizarding court and vote on incredibly important laws and in trials despite his age and here he was, attacking another person at the Pureblood’s winter fucking gala just because he’d lost his temper.

Damn, he knew he shouldn’t have come to this damn party, he had known that it would be a massive mistake and now he’d gone and shown himself up and embarrassed himself and most likely the Malfoy family too, in front of every other pureblood family, including Rabastan and his family, his betrothal family. He felt humiliated and lower than low, he just wanted to hide away, but he knew that if he did that then it would make everything a thousand times worse. It would be better to stay and face up to what he’d done with as much dignity as he could muster rather than run away and give everyone even more ammunition to fire at him. He was no coward after all and he would face up to what he’d done. He wished that it had never happened, but he had lost his temper and he had attacked someone. There was nothing that he could do to change that now.

 

“I saw what you did, Potter.”

 

Harry startled and looked around, over his shoulder, to a face that was only partially familiar to him. Then it had been over a year since he’d last seen Marcus Flint. He no longer looked quite so trollish, though he was still tall and massively muscular.

 

“Flint.” He greeted with a nod.

 

“Why were you attacking, Rowle?”

 

“Because he’s a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch and needed to be taken down several pegs! As if I’d allow anyone to get away with saying those sorts of things about me!” He defended himself and his actions hotly. Just because he regretted his rash behaviour didn’t mean he had to show it to others. He had done it and the best way to deal with it now was to stand by his actions and act like he had been entitled to act as such. It helped that he didn’t really regret attacking Rowle, just that he’d let his temper get away from him enough to do it in front of all of those people.

 

“He was disrespecting you?” The tall, muscled twenty year old man asked him tightly.

 

“Yes, he was and you can bet that if someone talks to me like that they’re going to end up regretting it!”

 

Flint nodded and he looked out over the garden, standing next to where Harry was sat.

 

“I hear from the rumours spreading tonight that you have the carrier’s gene.”

 

Harry blinked at the topic change and calmed down. “That’s right. I tested positive at Saint Mungos.”

 

“You went to the hospital to be tested?” Marcus said, looking pleased.

 

Harry nodded. “I didn’t believe the home test that Lucius administered, so he took me to the hospital to have it done professionally.”

 

“You would have the papers signed by the Healers then?”

 

Harry scrunched up his face in confusion. “Yes. Lucius keeps them in his study for me. What are you getting at here, Flint?”

 

“Marcus. I was working my way up to asking you to go for a walk.”

 

Harry clicked on. “You were making sure that I could carry your Heirs before wasting any time on me.”

 

Marcus grimaced. “That’s one way of phrasing it. A blunt, very negative way of putting it, but still, would you like to go for a walk, or perhaps you’d like a drink.”

 

“A walk sounds nice.” Harry replied. “If I go back in there, Rowe won’t ever be getting back up.”

 

He moved to turn around and slip off of the stone banister, but he was overall confused and oddly pleased when Marcus slipped a strong, muscled arm under his knees and behind his back and picked him up easily, turning around to face the lawn. The arm under his knees slid away and Harry stretched his legs down to touch the wooden decking as the arm around his back squeezed tight to support him before falling away once he was back on the ground.

It was a small thing. A nice gesture and it hadn’t lasted for longer than Harry felt comfortable with and he found himself smiling at the move. It had been completely unnecessary, of course, but he appreciated the gesture all the same as he and Marcus started their walk, keeping to a winding path that had been laid out for the occasion through the trees and bushes, and he found, much to his surprise, that he was very much enjoying himself in Marcus’ company.

 

“Are you still playing Quidditch?” Marcus asked.

 

Harry bobbed his head. “Yes, I got made Captain too. I made a new team, they’re mostly young. I kept Katie as a Chaser and paired her with a fifth year named Demelza and a second year named Sarah. Both of my Beaters are third years and my Keeper is a second year called Pauley.”

 

“You made a young team.” Marcus told him, looking at him like he was mad.

 

“I did and I’ve worked with them all personally, even one-on-one when it was needed. I’ve built up their skills, their courage and defiance and their confidence and we slaughtered Slytherin in November.” He said proudly.

 

“I knew leaving Urquhart as Captain was a mistake.”

 

“He’s a gormless worm.” Harry agreed with a grin. “That team is going to be my legacy, all my reserves are young too, but I might switch a few of them in or out next year, depending on what the new second years who try out are like. My reserves have reserves.” He joked. “That team is mine and they’ll last for the next four, five years at least! Long after I’ve graduated.”

 

“Are you still the star Seeker?”

 

Harry grinned. “You know that I am.”

 

“I hated playing Quidditch against Gryffindor when you became the Seeker. I knew I didn’t have anyone to beat you unless it was by lucky chance, like the chance that Diggory got in my last year.”

 

They wandered around the little path in the beautiful garden and Harry didn’t really feel anything and he wasn’t sure if Marcus did either. They weren’t walking close together or hand in hand like he’d done with Rabastan. It always came back to Rabastan. Perhaps it was because he was still in love with Rabastan, despite being angry with him, that was causing him problems with seeing Marcus as anything more than a familial acquaintance. 

 

“Draco said that you worked with Runes?” He said.

 

Marcus truly smiled then. “Yes. They’ve always been a special passion of mine. You never took Runes, did you?”

 

Harry grinned. “Actually, I am taking Runes now. Lucius changed my electives when I told him that I was unhappy with the ones I’d chosen. I’m doing Runes and Arithmancy now.”

 

“I could help you with Runes, if you’d like.” Marcus offered and Harry all but bit his hand off at the offer. Someone who had been scouted out at fifteen for a top job was going to be a massive help and asset to him.

 

“Please! I even asked for extra homework just to try and help myself get more used to Runes. I have a good basic understanding, but I definitely get confused still over some of the things that my other class mates would find easy.”

 

“I would be happy to help you. I’ve never offered to tutor before. I’ve been busy and I am very blunt and brusque, so I doubt I’ll be any good at it, but I will get you understanding Runes better if you can put up with me for long enough.”

 

“I never was one for talking riddles or beating around the bush.” Harry told him.

 

They made it back to the manor and without saying anything, they went back inside to get drinks. Harry’s hands clenched and he literally went red hazed when he saw Pansy Parkinson all over Rabastan. So that had been her little plan, she was trying to take the man that he was betrothed to from him!

He took a deep breath and turned to accept the glass off of Marcus.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Parkinson is all over the man that I’m supposedly betrothed to.” He said through clenched teeth.

 

Marcus looked to where he was glaring, found Pansy and he sneered.

 

“You shouldn’t accept that disrespect from him. She’s pawing at him and he’s doing nothing to stop her.”

 

Harry growled under his breath.

 

“You obviously love him.” Marcus said.

 

“I do, but he doesn’t even care about me.” Harry answered tightly.

 

“Hmm, I’d say differently if the way he’s glaring at me is any indication.”

 

“Are you sure he’s not glaring at me?” Harry harrumphed.

 

Marcus moved to the table to pick up a different glass and then came back.

 

“No, definitely me.”

 

Harry became interested then and wondered if perhaps his flirting with Rowle and Marcus had worked.

 

“He’s a fool if he’d even try to risk a true marriage with you.” Marcus commented. “He should be over here beating my face in. At least that’s what I’d do if our roles were reversed. You’re worth a few busted knuckles if I thought that I was losing you to another man.”

 

Harry chuckled and Marcus kissed his cheek and told him that he’d be in touch about the Rune tutoring before he left into the throng of people, leaving Harry blushing and shyly ducking his head. From the corner of his eye he saw a furious Rabastan storming over, it seemed that Marcus’ parting kiss had been what had finally, _FINALLY_ , tipped him over the edge and got him reacting.

He was pleased and he mentally prepared himself to have this out with Rabastan so that they could get their betrothal back on track. It was long overdue and it shouldn’t have taken him flirting with anyone to get Rabastan to fight for him. He should have done it because he loved and respected him and didn’t want anyone speaking to or about him in such a way, because he wanted to be with him and wouldn’t let anyone come between them, as Harry would do for him if their roles were reversed.

He took a deep breath and held it, getting himself into the right mind set to have this talk, or at least he was until a huge, powerful shove from behind had him flying into one of the numerous frosted glass tables. The edge of the table dug hard into his chest, but thankfully the table didn’t break, the glass in his hand, however, shattered into several large pieces and the glass cut his hand and arm, digging in deeply as his arm was forced against the table and then the shards dragged across his skin as he slipped to the floor after losing his feet.

For a wild moment he thought that Rabastan had actually attacked him, or even Rodolphus, but when he turned around, sitting on his folded knees as he tried to control his shock and the shaking that had started all throughout his body, it was to see Rowle standing over him.

 

“You will be mine!” He hissed. “Then you’ll know how big a mistake you’ve made tonight!”

 

“In your fucking dreams you nut job!” Harry answered back as he stood himself up, cradling his profusely bleeding right arm and locking his knees to try and stop the shaking. He felt like he was going to collapse back down to his knees at any moment.

 

Someone pressed against his back and an arm was wrapped tight around his waist as he was pulled back protectively, being supported and he was grateful for the hold as he knew he no longer had to fear stumbling and falling back to the floor where he’d be an easy target for Rowle. He recognised the too thin, quaking body immediately and he relaxed minutely.

 

“Get away from him.” Rabastan growled deeply. His strong, steady voice, as always, a complete contrast to his weak, shaky body.

 

“Oh, now you’re interested, Lestrange? Maybe you only like things that bleed. You two deserve one another, you’re both insane and there must be something wrong with you, Potter to actually like a cripple!”

 

“Do not call him that.” Harry defended easily and immediately. “Unless you want to go back into another sculpture, then we’ll see who the real cripple here is.”

 

Xerxes and Lucius were there in an instant and Lucius when caught sight of Harry’s bleeding arm, he immediately took hold of it and raised it into the air. Rodolphus waded over, saw Harry’s arm and his upset brother stood at Harry’s back, an arm wrapped tight around his waist to support him on his feet and he turned around and slammed a massive fist right into Rowle’s face with all the force of someone who had been aiming to hit right through the thing that they were aiming at.

Harry laughed when Rowle went flying off of his feet again, landing hard on his back. He was unconscious again and blood spurted from his mouth and nose. Rabastan’s arm clenched around his waist tight from the stress of the situation and his betrothed tried to release his one arm with his other arm. Used to this happening Harry didn’t panic and he sucked in a deep breath when he was able to, not drawing any attention to Rabastan’s slip up, especially not in this public situation, instead he patted Rabastan’s cramped arm with his good one, letting him know that it was alright.

 

“Come, Harry. This arm needs seeing to.” Lucius told him, his tone brooking no room for argument.

 

He nodded and he wriggled out from Rabastan’s hold and took hold of his hand instead, pulling him along as Lucius led them out of the Parkinson’s ballroom, still holding his arm up, bent at the elbow.

Draco followed with Narcissa and Xerxes came with a grinning, very self-satisfied Rodolphus, who was wiping blood off of his knuckles with a handkerchief.

They left the Parkinson’s winter gala and Harry found himself back in Malfoy manor where Lucius had already called for the house elf to get the medical supplies.

Rabastan ushered Harry to sit down and he sat next to him looking very worried and concerned as he used his own handkerchief from the inside pocket of his robes to dab at the blood on Harry’s fingers, taking over Lucius’ task of holding Harry’s bleeding arm up. Lucius took over again and used his wand to cut the sleeve from his robe and the shirt underneath before carefully removing it, Harry grimaced when he felt the pinch of a piece of glass being pulled out with the cloth.

His arm wasn’t as bad as his hand, but Draco still went grey when he saw the state of him.

 

“It’s alright, Draco. This is nothing.”

 

“Nothing.” Draco breathed incredulously.

 

Harry smiled as Lucius unstoppered a vial and dipped a clean cloth into it so that he could wash and cleanse Harry’s arm and hand.

 

“Wormtail cut my arm open worse than this at Voldemort’s rebirth. He cut through the main vein in my forearm.” He said mildly. “That bled so much that I needed a blood replenisher.”

 

Lucius’ movements stopped, but it lasted only a moment before he carried on. Harry ignored the sting and the lingering burn of the potion as he instead watched with morbid fascination as someone actually cared enough about him to clean up his cuts.

Rabastan’s arm slipped back around his waist and his hand gripped his hip in comfort as he pulled Harry to rest more firmly against him, worried still that he might collapse.

 

“This will be easy to heal.” Lucius told him in the quiet of the room as everyone watched Harry’s arm bleed. “They are simple, straight cuts.”

 

“My chest hurts too.” He admitted. He rather liked being taken care of in this way.

 

“Your chest?”

 

“He shoved me into one of those stupid tables, I wasn’t prepared for the attack, so I landed on the edge of it so it’s probably just bruised.”

 

“I’ll take a look at it after I’ve sorted out your hand and your arm.” Lucius told him and he sounded pleased too. As if he liked knowing that Harry wanted to be cared for.

 

Lucius took his wand to Harry’s arm them, meticulously healing the cuts, leaving nothing, not even a scar behind.

Rabastan was the one who used another, clean handkerchief to gently swipe away the lingering blood after the cuts were healed. Harry could barely restrain himself from grinning happily as he sat there, Rabastan beside him, Lucius crouched in front of him, as they both tended to his arm.

 

“I’m going to kill that Rowle.” Rabastan swore furiously, his voice tight with anger and a vicious promise.

 

“Don’t kill him.” Harry said mildly as he watched Lucius heal the last cut.

 

“Don’t tell me you still like him after he did this to you?” Rodolphus hissed.

 

Harry looked up at that. “No! I didn’t like him in the first place.” Harry said tightly. “I just meant that it would be much more fun to…keep them alive, so to say.”

 

Rodolphus’ anger cleared and he grinned that wide, evil smile that allowed Harry to clearly see how a younger Rodolphus had easily tortured two people into insanity without losing any sleep over it.

 

“Yes, keep him alive so that his punishment lasts longer. I do like the way that you think, Harry.”

 

“What about Flint?” Rabastan asked. “You seemed to be cosying right up to him!”

 

“Are you jealous?” Harry asked.

 

“You told me to stand up and defend you, from your face I could see that you wanted me to fight for you. This is me fighting for you. If Flint lays his slimy lips on you again, I’ll break him!”

 

Harry grinned at Rabastan, he felt utterly elated and he rested his body against Rabastan.

 

“I don’t like Marcus. No, that isn’t quite right. I do like him, but not in that way. He’s going to tutor me with my Runes! He said he’s going to be very blunt and hard on me, but he’ll get me achieving higher than everyone else. It’s going to be brilliant!”

 

“But you don’t love him? You don’t want a betrothal with him?”

 

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t stop loving _you_! Of course I don’t love Marcus or want a betrothal with him.” He insisted firmly. “You’re a thick headed idiot, but I still love you. I met Marcus for half an hour at the most, that’s not long enough for anyone to fall in love, but I do think that he’ll be a good friend. I just wanted to make you jealous so you’d damn well stop trying to push me towards other men all the time! I don’t want anyone else, I wanted you to realise that for yourself. So I decided to let you see what me being with other men was going to be like.”

 

“I’m definitely not going to do that again.” Rabastan told him. “Listening to Rowle ask for you to be betrothed to him, seeing Flint holding you, carrying you, kissing you…I was so angry and I hated that he was doing those things to you when I wanted it to be me. I was on my way over to you to pull you into my own arms when Rowle came up behind you and hit you. Then my anger transferred easily to him.”

 

“It should have been you who hit him.” Rodolphus told his brother.

 

“I thought it was more important to check on Harry.” Rabastan answered his brother immediately.

 

“Besides, you did a fantastic job.” Harry told Rodolphus with a grin. “I heard his nose break and I had a wonderful view of his eyes rolling up into the back of his head when your fist connected with his face. I think it was best to leave that to you when you so obviously enjoyed it, while I enjoyed having Rabastan’s hands on me.”

 

Xerxes laughed and placed a hand on Harry’s head for a moment, his thumb moved in a stroke before it was gone and Harry felt so accepted, so loved that his heart swelled with it. He felt that he’d finally found his place in the world, that he’d found his own little niche to thrive and grow in and he loved it so much.

Lucius repaired his shirt and his robes with an easy flick of his wand and very soon after that they found themselves in the drawing room, cups of hot chocolate in hand, or in Lucius and Xerxes’ cases tumblers of Firewhiskey, and Harry was curled up, resting himself on Rabastan, who was playing with his soft, potion styled hair.

Lucius had checked his chest as he changed from his dress robes into pyjamas and he had been right, just a bruise that was going to come out in a wonderful starburst of colour soon, but nothing more serious than that. Harry had swallowed a pain reliever and currently he was feeling very, very good as he cuddled with Rabastan, though he knew that very soon, likely as soon as tomorrow, they’d have to sit down and seriously sort out their thoughts and feelings. He wanted this to work, he _needed_ this relationship to work because he wanted it so very badly, because he loved Rabastan so much. They needed to talk to one another and they needed to sort out their damn feelings before they had any hope of progressing, but as he looked up at Rabastan, who was gazing softly at him with his fingers still massaging his scalp, Harry was very, very hopeful.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Harry and Rabastan got a little derailed in this chapter, but thankfully they came back together at the end! The next chapter will now be the morning after the end of this chapter, so it’ll be Christmas Day and we get to hear more from the delightful Rhadamanthus.  
> I don’t know when the next update will be as I’m currently trying desperately to finish another fic, Damaged Bodies, which is right on the cusp of being completed, and I want to focus a little more on that fic for the moment as well as Rise of the Drackens, for which the 98th chapter is coming along nicely and will be updated in the weeks to come. I have far too much going on with my stories lately.
> 
> So, until the next time, lovelies. I hope that you’ve enjoyed this chapter,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	9. Signs of Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> Lucius had checked his chest as he changed from his dress robes into pyjamas and he had been right, just a bruise that was going to come out in a wonderful starburst of colour soon, but nothing more serious than that. Harry had swallowed a pain reliever and currently he was feeling very, very good as he cuddled with Rabastan, though he knew that very soon, likely as soon as tomorrow, they’d have to sit down and seriously sort out their thoughts and feelings. He wanted this to work, he needed this relationship to work because he wanted it so very badly, because he loved Rabastan so much. They needed to talk to one another and they needed to sort out their damn feelings before they had any hope of progressing, but as he looked up at Rabastan, who was gazing softly at him with his fingers still massaging his scalp, Harry was very, very hopeful.

Chapter Nine – Signs of Acceptance

 

Harry didn’t remember how he’d gotten to bed last night. He must have fallen asleep on Rabastan and been floated up to his bed as he just didn’t remember, but he’d woken up tucked up in his bed, well rested and cosy, though his chest was aching a bit.

He made it down to breakfast with a grimace of pain only to find a pain reliever already waiting for him, which he shot back immediately in one large swallow. He groaned happily as it worked within a minute to ease away the aching pain in his chest.

 

“Do you hurt terribly?” Rabastan asked him, looking unhappy at the thought.

 

“No, it wasn’t really painful, it’s a horrible ache more than anything, but it was more painful when I breathed in. This helps a lot to ease my breathing.”

 

“You made an utter fool out of yourself.” Rhadamanthus informed him scathingly. “You assaulted a prominent, powerful Pureblood and threw yourself at another like a Mudblood whore. You’re disgusting.”

 

It was, of course, too much to ask for that Rhadamanthus had gotten drunk at the winter gala and fallen into one of those damn ice sculptures and killed himself, or even just fucking stayed at the Parkinson’s, but of course he was here being his easily loathable self for breakfast.

 

“You’re just upset because you missed everything.” Harry told him tonelessly, not even looking at him as he poured Rabastan another glass of water before filling his own glass and plate up so that he could have breakfast.

 

Rhadamanthus flushed horribly, as he had missed the drama last night. He had been meeting with a few of his associates, but he had been well informed of what had happened when they’d returned to the gala. Healers had been called to escort Rowle to the hospital and it had been all anyone could talk about for the rest of the night. Though most of them had been gossiping easily about how the young and handsome Lord Potter-Black had put Lord Rowle in his place after the older man had insulted and then physically attacked him.

Harry spoke softly to Rabastan as he ate his breakfast and he was very happy that he and Rabastan were back to how they were before they’d had their fight. Their disagreement had lasted for a day. If all of their fights would last that long and be resolved so quickly then Harry was certain that they’d have a wonderful future together, because he wasn’t so utterly naïve as to believe that they’d never have another fight or argument in the future.

 

“Merry Christmas.” Rabastan whispered to him softly.

 

Harry smiled widely as he realised that yes, today was actually Christmas Day.

 

“Merry Christmas, Rabastan.”

 

Draco had told him how today would progress and breakfast was always first. After that they’d reconvene to the family drawing room and exchange gifts. Then they’d have Christmas lunch and then there would be wine and cheeses set up in the drawing room where they’d stay and talk until they’d eventually leave and they’d retire to bed.

It all seemed very formal to Harry, but then he had never really had a normal Christmas before. He’d been locked in a cupboard for Christmas during most of his childhood and on others, mostly when he was at Hogwarts, it had been spent lounging around the castle or encroaching on the Weasley’s Christmas.

This…being here with the Malfoys and with Rabastan, who would one day become his Husband, it felt like he had his own family, like he was accepted and a part of everything and not just there because he had nowhere else to go. It felt amazing.

His excitement grew as he thought of the gifts he’d bought for everyone. He’d been told by Draco that only one gift per person was acceptable etiquette, so Harry had stuck to that, though he couldn’t see himself sticking to such formal rules when he had his own home and his own children.

He finished his breakfast and sat talking to Rabastan on his one side and Draco, who was sat opposite him. They were waiting for Lucius, as their host, to finish his morning tea. Thankfully he didn’t have his usual morning paper today or they’d be waiting for another hour for him to finish reading it.

 

“Come along, boys.” Narcissa stood gracefully and came to their area of the table.

 

Draco stood and offered his arm to his Mother, Harry walked around the table and did the same, so that Narcissa had a son on either side of her.

Lucius stood and gestured for his guests to go before him as Draco and Harry escorted Narcissa up the stairs, down the corridor and into the family drawing room.

Their Christmas tree was real pine and decorated in real, solid silver ornaments that had been polished to a high sheen and had been in the Malfoy family for generations. There were several plain white candles in silver holders on every other branch. It looked beautiful to Harry as he went and touched one of the branches, leaving the scent of pine on his fingers. He’d never been allowed to touch the Dursleys ridiculously expensive plastic tree that was decorated in gaudy lights, tacky coloured glass baubles and ratty tinsel.

There were several wrapped gifts under the tree, all decorated in coloured paper with a ribbon wrapped around it, their tags poking out and Harry’s excitement grew as Narcissa smoothed down her gown and sat on one of the settees facing the tree. Draco sat next to her, but Harry chose to walk over to the other settee, where he sat next to Rabastan, squeezing in tight as the Lestrange men were not small by any means.

 

“How are you this morning, Harry?” Xerxes asked him. “How are your ribs?”

 

“I’m alright, thank you. My ribs were aching earlier this morning, but that pain reliever took the edge right off.”

 

Rabastan’s arm slipped around his back and his hand slipped up to rub at his bruised ribs and Harry smiled.

Once again Rhadamanthus was sat on his own, excluded from the rest of them by his own choice. Harry really didn’t understand why he’d even bothered to come, but he took an educated guess that it was because he wanted to ruin the day for Rabastan as much as he could. Well…Harry wasn’t going to let him.

 

“Ladies first, I believe.” Lucius said with a smile towards his Wife.

 

Lucius used his wand to summon the first gift toward him and he handed it over to Narcissa with a kiss to the cheek. She made a show of checking the tag and reading it slowly before sending her Husband a smile. Meticulously untying the ribbon and unfolding every corner of the paper from the large present, Narcissa uncovered a beautiful square box, which she opened with care.

 

“Oh Lucius, thank you.” She exclaimed happily as she stood up and pulled out the most beautiful dress that Harry had ever seen with a matching shawl that was draped around the shoulders of the folded dress, held together with a brooch made of gleaming silver and black iron, engraved with the Malfoy crest made out of emerald and onyx.

 

Narcissa pulled out three smaller boxes from the bigger box and opened them each in turn to reveal a matching set of a necklace, bracelet and earrings. All of the jewellery would complement her new dress magnificently.

Harry grinned at how happy Narcissa was and he waited patiently as Lucius distributed more gifts out, watching as his gift to Draco was happily received and his own from Draco made him laugh.

Then Rabastan summoned a small wrapped box and he handed it over with a smile, Harry delicately pulled the ribbon, even though he wanted to tear into it like an overexcited child.

Inside the box was a pendant necklace in an odd, spiky shield shape made of an unfamiliar, highly polished black gem. It was surrounded and etched with symbols in real gold and when he turned the pendant over, the back was made of gold too and it was inscribed with the Latin words _mihi parta tueri_. He run his fingers over it before turning it back around to face him and he swallowed as he made out that the symbols on the front were actually letters. They spelt out ‘Lestrange’ in an odd, mixed up order, but Harry knew what this was. It was the Lestrange family crest. He was being given the Lestrange family crest to wear as his own.

 

“I had this made for you.” Rabastan told him as he remained silent. “Black sapphire and gold. The inscription on the back is the Lestrange family motto. I will fight for what is mine. It’s a promise to you, that I will not let you go now that I have you. There will be no more pushing you away or any mentions of other men. You are mine and I will fight for you.”

 

Harry’s mouth was so dry that he couldn’t even swallow as he played the pendant, on a short, stout masculine chain of gold, around his fingers. It was lovely, beautiful even, and the symbolism of him receiving it as a gift were undeniable. He was not only being welcomed into the Lestrange family and being given permission to wear their crest, but Rabastan was also staking a claim on him, a warning to other Purebloods who might have any designs on him that he was taken, that he was a member of the Lestrange family and he wore their crest. I will fight for what is mine. Harry stared at those words and he ran his thumb over them, he was going to hold Rabastan to those words for the rest of their lives.

 

“Do you not like it?” Rabastan asked him insecurely.

 

“Harry, you give thanks for gifts you have received.” Lucius told him sharply.

 

Harry looked up from the pendant and at Lucius with wide eyes before looking to Rabastan, sat beside him looking nervous again. He tried to swallow to dampen his mouth, but he couldn’t. Instead he reached forward and hugged Rabastan tightly, ducking his head into his thick neck and holding him, trying to tell him without the words that he couldn’t get past his tongue that he loved his gift.

Rabastan’s shaky arms wrapped around his back and squeezed him tight before he pulled back and kissed his forehead.

 

“I love it.” Harry managed to get out at last. “Thank you.”

 

Rabastan took it from him and fought with the clasp to get it open. Harry didn’t offer to help and he waited patiently with a smile as Rabastan finally opened the chain and placed it around his neck before struggling to redo it. Harry waited happily as he rubbed his fingers over his new pendant.

 

“I know you can’t wear it in public, it would be too suspicious.” Rabastan told him after he’d gotten the necklace done up, his voice quiet and strained from embarrassment. “But I wanted you to have it.”

 

Harry cuddled back up to Rabastan and held him tightly, uncaring of the odd jut of bones under his hands as he tilted his head back for a kiss to the mouth. Lucius cleared his throat and Harry grinned as he pulled his mouth away from Rabastan’s.

 

“He doesn’t deserve a crest of our family.” Rhadamanthus declared. Harry had been wondering when he was going to butt in and try to ruin everything. “They are not even engaged! He is not a member of our family.”

 

“Yet.” Harry said loudly and sharply to Rhadamanthus before turning back to Rabastan. “I love it, Rabastan. I’m not going to take it off.”

 

Rabastan grinned at him and they laced their fingers together before turning back to the room at large as Lucius gave out more presents. For Harry, nothing beat the pendant he’d been given, especially not the atrocious gift that Rhadamanthus had given him, being forced to give him a gift merely because social etiquette demanded it.

He’d thanked Rhadamanthus for the female lingerie set and turned the man’s face almost purple by promising to wear it for Rabastan on their wedding night as he took it from the box to show everyone what he’d been given. Xerxes had roared with laughter and Rodolphus had been forced to thump Rabastan on the back after the poor man had almost choked on an inhaled sip of water.

Harry had shared a grin with Draco and winked at his brother before snuggling into a calmed Rabastan and enjoying his Christmas morning with his family. Of course things would have been better and much nicer without Rhadamanthus there sneering and making snide comments, but he knew that he couldn’t have everything his own way.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- X

 

Christmas lunch had been tense with Rhadamanthus dining with them, but Harry ignored him as best as he could, as much as polite socialism allowed at least. He filled up on goose, pheasant, vegetables and potatoes and then retired back to the family drawing room.

He and Draco started a game of chess and Harry’s good mood steadily evaporated. He’d gotten better at chess since he’d spent time playing against Ron, but he was still no match for Draco.

 

“I win again.” Draco said smugly.

 

“I don’t want to play anymore.” Harry huffed.

 

“Why not?” Draco demanded as he set the board back up. “You’re getting better. Slowly.”

 

Rabastan shifted over to sit next to him and he picked up the first white pawn and moved it. Harry grinned and settled back against his betrothed and watched Draco make his move.

Harry made the next move after looking to Rabastan for direction and he was much happier as he and Rabastan played together against Draco.  

They still lost, much to Draco’s smug satisfaction, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care about that as he and Rabastan had had so much fun laughing and strategising together.

The pendant around his neck was a warm weight that he couldn’t stop playing with and every couple of minutes he would lift his hand to touch it, to play with it as he rubbed it with his thumb, feeling the contrast between the very precious black sapphire and the equally precious solid gold. He would have loved it all the same if it had been made from aluminium and glass. It was the thought behind the gift that made it so precious, so sentimental to him. It was a symbol of the love that Rabastan couldn’t voice and it was a symbol of their coming engagement, the Lestranges were welcoming him into their family and it was a promise, _mihi parta tueri_ , Rabastan would fight for him. Rabastan was telling him without words that he wanted to marry him and he would have had to ask Xerxes for permission to give him anything with the Lestrange crest on it as the current Head of the House Lestrange. Xerxes was welcoming him into the family too by giving his permission for the pendant to carry the Lestrange crest and Harry loved the feeling of acceptance he was getting from having the pendant around his neck. He raised his hand to touch it again and he couldn’t hold back the grin.

Rabastan saw him and his arm wrapped around his hips and squeezed. He didn’t trust himself to hold around his chest because of his bruised ribs, so he’d started holding around his hips instead. Harry loved the thought behind the action and he sneaked a look around subtly before darting in to peck Rabastan’s lips.

His betrothed laughed so happily that it drew everyone else’s attention as Harry sat right beside him, grinning so happily and holding Rabastan’s hands.

 

“I love you.” Harry whispered to him as he stared at Rabastan’s face and into those dark blue eyes that he loved so very much, but were the reason that Rhadamanthus loathed his own son.

 

“I hope our baby has your eyes.” Rabastan told him and it was Harry’s turn to laugh.

 

“I was just thinking that your eyes were so very beautiful.” He told his betrothed. “I want our children to have your eyes.”

 

“We’ll compromise. Half of them will take your breath taking eyes and half will take mine.” Rabastan said with a grin, as if they had any sort of control over those sorts of things, but Harry still chuckled.

 

“Deal.” He agreed, pausing for a moment before thinking of something. “They’re all going to have brown eyes now.” He laughed. “All of your family have brown eyes and my Dad had brown eyes too.”

 

Rabastan pulled gently on his hair. “You’ve gone and cursed it now.” He told him and Harry laughed yet again.

 

“What are you two giggling so hysterically about?” Draco demanded.

 

“Our future children’s eye colour.” Harry told his adoptive brother. “Rabastan wants all our children to have my eyes, but I want our children to have his blue…we compromised and then realised we’d cursed all our future children to have brown eyes, like Rodolphus.”

 

“And just what is wrong with my eye colour?” Rodolphus demanded.

 

“Nothing.” Harry insisted. “If you like tree bark and mud.” He mumbled under his breath to Rabastan, who laughed in surprise.

 

“What was that?” Rodolphus narrowed his eyes.

 

“Nothing! Nothing!” Harry placated as he shifted closer to Rabastan and buried his face in his betrothed’s chest so he could hide his grin and muffle his laughter.

 

Rabastan petted at his back and head and smiled down at him as Harry laughed into him. Harry enjoyed the attention and the way that Rabastan was looking at him with that smile on his thin, chapped lips. His betrothed needed a drink and Harry pecked at those too dry lips before standing up and going to pick up both of their glasses, topping them up with water and handing Rabastan’s glass to him.

 

“At least you know the baby will have dark hair.” Draco told him.

 

“Not exactly.” Harry said with a smile. “Dark hair is more dominant, but my Mother and grandmother were red heads and my Aunt and Grandfather were actually blonde. My cousin was blond too, despite his Father also having red hair.”

 

“My mother was blonde too.” Rabastan told him with a soft smile.

 

That was when their Christmas went wrong as a glass smashed and Rhadamanthus was on his feet looking furious.

 

“You have no right to talk of her!” He exploded, his face going a horrible shade of red that Harry had become familiar with due to Vernon Dursley. “You killed her! You are the reason that she is dead, you have no right to even think of her!”

 

“She loved him.” Harry said firmly when everyone else remained silent in the ensuing minutes after Rhadamanthus’ violent outburst. “She loved her son and that’s what you don’t like. You didn’t like the new baby and you couldn’t stand that your Wife loved him when you didn’t even want him. Well she did want him and she did love him and there is nothing that you can do to change that! Rabastan didn’t kill her, you did when you broke her heart by hating her beloved son.”

 

“You have no clue what you’re talking about!” Rhadamanthus told him furiously, that dangerous glint back in his pale eyes. “You weren’t even born when my Wife died.”

 

“I don’t need to have been.” Harry said, glaring back just as hard. “I know one thing though. In the end, before she died, it was you that she hated. She hated you for hating the son that she loved and adored. It’s you who have no right to talk or think of her, not Rabastan, because she loved him, not you.”

 

Rhadamanthus let out a ferocious scream and lunged at him, but it was Lucius who shot off a body binding spell that had Rhadamanthus falling flat on his face before he even came close to reaching him.

 

“I would advise you against lunging at one of my sons like some sort of wild beast in a menagerie.” Lucius said mildly, but with a bite of steel to his tone and in those grey eyes.

 

“You are a fool of the biggest kind.” Xerxes spat at his son. “You will go back to Lestrange Manor and you’ll stay there!”

 

Xerxes lifted his son with a spell and they left the room, Harry assumed so that Xerxes could Apparate Rhadamanthus back to Lestrange Manor to give him a real dressing down without anyone watching or hearing his private business.

Harry turned to Rabastan and cupped his face, smiling at him.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly.

 

“You…you stood up to him for me, when I couldn’t even do it myself.” Rabastan said in a strange bemusement.

 

“Of course I did.” Harry replied with a soft smile. “I love you and I’m not going to let that poisonous, petty bastard fill your head with lies. Your Mother loved you, Rabastan, it was _him_ who never has, not your Mother. Love her and remember her fondly, as she did you. Never let Rhadamanthus poison you against her, as he’s trying to do. I know that you know deep in your heart that she loved you, hold on to that.”

 

Rodolphus sat at Rabastan’s back and slipped both of his arms around his brother in a way that would have looked too close, too intimate if it had been anyone other than these two…the two who had survived through so much between them, Harry knew, he understood and he didn’t hold it against either of them.

 

“She did love you.” Rodolphus told his younger brother. “That old fool knows it too, it’s why he reacted as he did. As Harry said, she loved you, you and me, not him.”

 

Harry patted Rabastan’s hand and left him and Rodolphus to have some time to themselves. He went over to Draco and asked if he wanted to play one-on-one Quidditch, which really wasn’t anything more than releasing Draco’s snitch and the both of them chasing it down.

 

“Sure.” Draco agreed easily as he stood up and stretched.

 

“The both of you put a jumper on.” Narcissa told them. “Lucius, go with them.” She ordered her Husband. “I don’t want either of them to get hurt.”

 

Lucius sighed, but he stood up as well as Harry and Draco rushed to get their jumpers and broomsticks from their bedrooms before they made their way to the back reception room, where Narcissa was waiting for them.

 

“I’m going to make up for my losses in chess.” Harry swore to Draco with a grin.

 

He allowed Narcissa to fuss around him, making sure that his jumper collar and hem were covering him fully before she cast a warming charm on him before moving to do the same to Draco.

Lucius joined them wearing a very expensive, calf length winter coat and he had his ever present cane with him in one hand.

Harry darted outside and rushed across the back decking and down the porch steps with Draco. He flat out run over the lawn towards the Quidditch pitch then, they weren’t allowed to run inside the house, but outside of it was another matter entirely.

Lucius joined them, having walked at a more dignified, sedate pace, just as Draco was unlocking his own box of Quidditch balls. He only took out the snitch before closing the lid again.

 

“If I see either one of you cheating, you will be placed in a corner for an hour. I don’t care if it’s Christmas, you’ll still be punished.”

 

Harry hugged Draco and got a slap to the back for his trouble.

 

“There’s not going to be any cheating on my part.” He said with a grin. “I don’t need to cheat to win.”

 

Draco scoffed but let the snitch go after Lucius had tapped it with his wand to activate it, its tiny silver wings beating against his hand.

Harry climbed onto his Firebolt and he and Draco watched Lucius intently as he smiled cruelly at them as he waited, and waited, and waited to send them both into the air.

 

“Father!” Draco whined impatiently as he’d finally had enough of waiting.

 

Lucius chuckled. “Begin.” He commanded and the both of them shot off like corks from a bottle of shaken butterbeer.

 

Harry whooped like a maniac as he weaved around the private Quidditch pitch, it was smaller than a professional pitch, but it was still a decent size, more for use by a five-on-five team (one keeper, one beater, one seeker and two chasers per team) instead of seven-on-seven.

It was very freeing and Harry didn’t focus too much on finding the snitch, he just wanted to practice his dives and moves and Draco was doing the same. It felt amazing to fly during the holidays, he didn’t care that it was bitterly cold, windy and that there was a couple of inches of snow covering everything. He just loved the freeing experience of being able to fly around something that wasn’t actually the Hogwarts grounds for once, though flying around the Weasley’s orchard, catching apples, was alright, but it was nothing like this. This was an actual Quidditch pitch, with actual hoops and real balls. Catching thrown apples was so easy for him, he’d been catching golf balls thrown by Oliver Wood in his first year, apples were bigger and slower and he could see them easier. But this, practicing with an actual, real snitch on a good sized pitch was incredible.

The both of them were red cheeked from the wind and cold after just twenty minutes, but they were both laughing and funnily, neither of them were actually looking for the snitch, they were having a good time just flying around and trying to outdo one another’s stunts.

Harry didn’t notice precisely when Rabastan had come out to watch him, but on his next turn around the south side goal hoops, he noticed that Lucius was no longer standing alone. Rabastan and Xerxes had come out to watch them too and he grinned and he started showing off a bit more. After his most hair raising dive yet, where he pulled up, away from the ground, with less than a fraction of a second to spare, his shins sunk in the few inches of snow that had fallen, Lucius shouted at him, actually shouted at him, and told him that if he didn’t stop doing such ridiculous, reckless stunts then he’d have his broom confiscated from him for the rest of the holidays.

Harry cut back on the stunts then and he went looking for the snitch instead, his grin hurting his frozen cheeks and he ignored his bright red, cold fingers that gripped his broom handle numbly. He was having too much fun and he went up to a hundred and forty feet and looked down. A dive from here would be spectacular, but he knew that Lucius would keep good on his promise and he didn’t want to push him into doling out a punishment.

He caught a glint of gold and he grinned, already moving before he’d fully turned his head to sight the snitch properly and that was what made him a brilliant seeker, he moved on automatic, his body was one with his broom as he went after the snitch with single minded determination. He loved flying, he loved this freedom, he loved everything about it as he chased down the snitch, following it, weaving, swaying, diving and climbing. He reached eighty feet and then the snitch dived and he followed, his body low on the handle of the broom, making himself as streamlined as possible, he only outstretched his hand at the last possible moment to reduce air drag and just three feet from the ground, he caught the snitch, pulled out of the dive and added a half spin to the side to bring himself to a complete stop in the air.

He laughed so happily as he clutched the snitch and he flew a little lower and slid off of his broom, landing on his feet in the snow. He made his way over to the adults, watching as Draco landed too, shaking himself with the chill in the air.

He handed the snitch back to Draco, who locked it into his trunk and Harry went to wrap his arms around Rabastan.

 

“You flew superbly.” Rabastan told him, hugging him tightly and letting go before he could have an ‘episode’ and crush him too tightly. “You could play professionally.”

 

Harry grinned at the praise. “I’ve never wanted to fly professionally.” He said. “I like just flying more than actually playing Quidditch and I don’t think I’d enjoy it as much if I made the hobby I love into an actual career.”

 

“What do you want to do?” Rabastan asked curiously.

 

Harry frowned. “I was talking to Draco about this at school. I was thinking I’d like to be a teacher. Maybe for Care of Magical Creatures or Defence Against the Dark Arts. I’m not too sure. I might change my mind this year, next year or even once I’ve graduated, but at the moment I want to be a teacher.”

 

“That is an admirable career choice.” Lucius told him approvingly as they started off back towards the manor.

 

Harry smiled shyly and ducked his head. He wasn’t used to sharing his thoughts with other people and sharing his career choices and having them praised was something he was very unused to as it had never really happened before. He was very pleased and he hoped that, even if he didn’t go on to be a teacher, that Lucius still approved of whatever career he did choose later in life.

They made it back to the manor and they slipped back into the drawing room, where Narcissa was taking advantage of the peace to read a novel with a dust jacket that was moving, lightning flashing over the tops of trees while a bear suddenly appeared, prowling around the tiny stone cottage in the middle of the supposed forest.

She immediately slid in a bookmark and put the book down, standing to come and check them over, putting a pale hand on both his and Draco’s cheeks. She tutted in disapproval.

 

“You are both too cold. Pimsey!”

 

A house elf immediately appeared in the room and curtseyed low.

 

“What can Pimsey be doing for Mistress?” It squeaked out.

 

“Hot chocolate for the young masters, now.” Narcissa ordered curtly.

 

The house elf was gone in the space of a blink and Harry sat down with Rabastan on the same settee that they’d been sat on that morning. His hand rose again to the pendant around his neck and he played with it. Pimsey was back not two minutes later and she handed a large mug of hot chocolate to Draco and then gave one to him.

 

“Thank you.” He said automatically and the house elf looked like she’d burst into tears while the Malfoy’s and the Lestranges just stared at him as Pimsey left.

 

Harry took a big gulp and sighed happily as it warmed him.

 

“What?” He demanded when he realised that he was being stared at.

 

“You did that thing with the house elves again.” Draco sneered at him.

 

“He’s done that before?” Rodolphus asked in absolute disgust.

 

“He does it all the time at school.” Draco ratted him out.

 

“What does it cost me to thank someone for doing something for me?” Harry demanded. “Nothing!”

 

“It’s a house elf!” Xerxes said aghast.

 

“They’re still living! They still have emotions!”

 

“Granger got to you.”

 

“I am a founding member of S.P.E.W.”

 

“Excuse me?” Lucius demanded. “A founding member of _what_?!”

 

“S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I was the Secretary.”

 

Draco snorted with laughter and almost choked on his hot chocolate.

 

“You make a good secretary.” Draco told him.

 

Harry grinned. “I never actually did anything and there was no way that I was going around wearing a badge that said Secretary for SPEW on it. It was a good idea in theory, but Hermione went about it in completely the wrong way.”

 

“How was it a good idea?” Xerxes demanded. “Those creatures are happy to be servants.”

 

“Exactly, servants, not slaves and they’re treated as slaves by most people. It doesn’t cost me anything to say thank you for a service they’ve given me and it makes them feel better, why is that so difficult?”

 

“You’ve been doing wonderfully well, but it is times like these that remind me that you were raised by foul Muggles.” Xerxes commented and Harry glared at him until Lucius checked him with a hex to the back of the head.

 

Harry took a deep breath and looked away, letting the conversation drop and letting the room be plunged into a stiff, cold silence where the tension just grew and grew the longer the silence stretched on.

Lucius was the one to break it after realising that no one else was going to do so and that neither Harry nor Xerxes were going to apologise. He broke it by telling Pimsey to serve wine and cheeses, he didn’t thank her, but neither was he quite so venomous with his order. Harry acknowledged and accepted that Lucius was trying to keep the peace, so he didn’t kick up a fuss.

Rabastan distracted him anyway, by feeding him bites of cheeses on lightly salted crackers after finding out that not only had Harry never tried any of the cheeses on offer, but that he’d never seen or heard of most of them.

 

“This one is brie.” Rabastan told him, holding out the cracker with the aforementioned brie on it for Harry to take a bite out of.

 

Harry chewed and then pulled a face and Rabastan laughed and held out a napkin so Harry could spit it out.

 

“That’s disgusting.” Draco told him.

 

“No, that cheese is disgusting! It tastes like it’s gone past its use-by date.” Harry corrected him, washing away the taste of the brie stuck in his mouth with water.

 

“This one is Crawford stilton.” Rabastan told him, having far too much fun at his expense in Harry’s opinion.

 

“That one even looks disgusting! I’m not trying it.”

 

“How will you know if you like it or not if you don’t try it?” Rabastan told him.

 

“Taste is only one sense, sight and smell are two and they’re both telling me that I’m not going to like that smelly, mouldy hunk of cheese.”

 

Rabastan burst out laughing and so did everyone else, all at his expense and Harry bristled.

 

“Just try it.” Rabastan encouraged once he’d stopped laughing and regained some control. “Look, it’s good.” Rabastan took a bite out of the cracker then held out the rest for Harry to try and he scowled, but he opened his mouth and allowed Rabastan to feed him the half cracker and bite of cheese.

 

The flavour was overpowering, as his nose had told him it would be, and he dived for the napkin to spit it out, getting more laughter at his expense. He gulped his water and glared at Rabastan.

 

“No more.” He insisted.

 

“You need to try new things.” Rabastan told him, smiling at him so happily that Harry relented almost immediately. He’d do anything to make Rabastan smile like that more often.

 

He grudgingly took a bite out of another cheese presented to him, a little hesitantly as this cheese was filled with holes, but as he chewed, he found that he actually liked this one and he swallowed it and took the other half of the cracker and cheese into his mouth.

 

“I like that one.” He said once he’d finished.

 

“See.” Rabastan said with a soft grin. “If you don’t try them, then you won’t know if you like them or not. That was Emmental.”

 

“How have you never tried any of these before?” Lucius asked him. “I assume that the Muggles have cheeses.”

 

Harry automatically thought back to the Dursleys, who always had a bog-standard cheeseboard on offer at Christmas, he knew as he’d taken it from its supermarket packaging often enough, but he’d never been allowed to so much as nibble them. He was to prepare the food while Dudley was opening his thirty odd presents, then he was to go back to his cupboard and stay there.

 

“Of course they did.” Harry said softly. “They just never let me have any.” He said, not looking at anyone as he took the cracker from Rabastan and bit into it. He neither liked nor disliked the double Gloucester with chives.

 

All at once the room was reminded forcibly that he had been mistreated in his childhood by Muggles and Harry watched as Rabastan bared his teeth and clenched both fists.

Lucius sighed and pushed the platter of cheeses more towards Harry, calling Pimsey back and ordering her to get even more cheeses.

 

“I want you to try all of them. Every single one.” Lucius instructed him and Harry grimaced.

 

“Some of them look gross.”

 

“Try them.” Lucius insisted and Harry relented and took a slice of a cheese with red bits in it from between a garnish of fresh melon and red grapes.

 

He nibbled it without a cracker and he pulled a face and handed it to Rabastan, whose smile was a little forced.

 

“It has fruit in it! Who put’s fruit in cheese?!” Harry demanded.

 

“You uncultured swine.” Draco teased him.

 

Harry huffed and picked up another piece of cheese from the platter that Pimsey had just served, which was more white than the creamy yellow of some of the others. Nibbling on it carefully gave him nothing except that it was mild and very fresh tasting. He put more into his mouth and chewed it consideringly.

 

“Do you like that one?” Rabastan asked him gently and Harry nodded. “That was goats’ cheese.”

 

Harry picked up a little cube next, of what he thought was more goat cheese, but was very crumbly and salty on his tongue. He grimaced as he hadn’t expected it, before actually realising that he did like it a little bit.

 

“That was actually feta.” Rabastan told him with a laugh.

 

“Isn’t that a salad cheese?” Harry asked.

 

“It is a salad cheese.”

 

“Not very traditional.” Harry said with a grin.

 

“I think your Father is just making sure you try every cheese in existence.” Rabastan told him with a small, forced grin.

 

“I don’t like this game.” Harry frowned as he eyed another ordinary seeming piece of cheese. “I like cheddar, can’t we just leave it at that?”

 

“No.” Draco told him simply as he ate his own cheeses, sipping on a glass of red wine. Harry had declined the wine to support Rabastan, who was strictly not allowed any alcohol on his recovery diet.

 

Harry grimaced and tried another piece of cheese. It wasn’t too bad, if a bit rubbery for his tastes.

 

“That was edam.”

 

“Not too bad.” Harry sighed and he tucked himself into Rabastan.

 

He took some melon and a handful of grapes and he tried them, finding them at their perfect ripeness, naturally. He then turned to Rabastan and repaid the favour, feeding him bits of fruit, knowing that Rabastan was allowed to eat a bit of fruit from his written diet sheet that he had studied extensively so that he knew what his betrothed could have at what time.

Harry wiped Rabastan’s chin for him from the juice that dribbled down it from the melon pieces and he did so willingly and lovingly. He didn’t care and now that Rhadamanthus was gone, no one else cared either, in fact Xerxes was watching them with a satisfied smile on his face and Rodolphus looked over every now and then approvingly.

Harry ignored them both and Rabastan’s back was to them so he couldn’t see. Rabastan let him know he’d had enough when he touched Harry’s hands and held onto them. Harry finished off the last bit of melon and the few grapes himself before settling into Rabastan and just enjoying the peace with him. He didn’t know why he’d ever been afraid of spending time with Rabastan, or why he thought it would be awkward. He laughed now at his previous thoughts on the matter, being with Rabastan was just…it just was. It was easy, it made him happy and the thought of a real future, a future he actually wanted, it was the best feeling in the world and he wanted it with all of his heart. He wanted Rabastan and he wanted children with him. It was as simple as that.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The Christmas period flew past, too quickly for Harry’s liking as he tried to spend even more time with Rabastan. It wasn’t fair that they would be split up again in just a week’s time. He didn’t want to say goodbye to him.

 

“Don’t say goodbye while we still have time left together.” Rabastan told him as he caught Harry glowering at the date on the corner of the newspaper that Lucius was reading.

 

“I can’t help it. I don’t want to go back.” Harry said sullenly as he fingered his Lestrange pendant hanging around his neck. He’d kept his promise, he hadn’t once taken it off, not even when he slept, showered or had a bath.

 

Rabastan smiled and cupped his hands, stilling them. He bent forward and pecked his lips while a suspicious Narcissa watched them closely, anything more than a full, second long kiss on the lips would be repaid with a hex to the back of the head, or whatever particular body part she could aim clearly at.

 

“You have to go back, it’ll only be until Easter, then you will be back again for a week.”

 

“It’s not enough.” Harry sighed. “It’s not nearly long enough.”

 

“It’ll only be for a little while.” Rabastan insisted. “You’ll be out of Hogwarts sooner than you know, then we’ll start our family.”

 

Harry smiled as he heard that, deliriously happy that Rabastan wanted the same future that he did. It made him fall a little deeper in love with the man sat next to him.

 

“I finished off the last of your homework last night, Harry.” Lucius said as he folded up the offending newspaper as he finished with it. “It’s perfectly acceptable and even exemplary in some cases, well done, I’m very proud of you.”

 

Harry grinned and sat up a little straighter, ignoring Rabastan’s small laugh at his actions. He’d never get enough of having praise, especially from one who rarely gave it and barely had a nice word to say to, or about, anyone.

 

“If you keep up that level of concentration throughout your school work, you should be looking at Exceeds Expectations throughout your examinations, except for your Defence examinations of course, I would be highly disappointed if your standards slipped now and you got anything less than Outstanding.”

 

“I find the Defence work too easy.” Harry admitted. “Though we are moving onto non-verbal spells, which are more difficult as I find that my magic works better when I channel my emotions through it in the form of shouting, but I can still pick up the spells easily.”

 

“Seeing Granger’s face when you scored a hundred and forty percent on that test made my day.” Draco smirked.

 

“You scored a hundred and forty?” Xerxes asked, his eyebrows touching his hairline. “I’m very impressed.”

 

“Yeah, I scored perfectly on the theory exam and when it came to the practical, I outdid what was asked of me, the Professor had no choice but to mark me based on the skill I’d shown and I ended up with a hundred and forty percent of the mark.”

 

“What did you have to do?” Rabastan asked interestedly.

 

“We had to disarm and immobilise a charmed dummy.” Draco answered. “Harry had to go one further.”

 

“I disarmed and immobilised it.” Harry told his brother with a grin.

 

“You disarmed and demolished it.” Draco argued. “There was nothing left! Not even a pile of ash or dust!”

 

“What spells did you use?” Rodolphus asked interestedly.

 

“Expelliarmus and Reducto.” Harry said. “They’re my favourites.”

 

“Your Reductor curse was so powerful that nothing was left after your spell hit?” Rodolphus demanded.

 

“It’s not that impressive, it’s not supposed to leave anything behind, is it?”

 

“Yes! It’s supposed to leave behind particles of the object it hits, whether a pile of ash, dust or mist, something. It’s not supposed to just disappear.”

 

“Oh…well I haven’t left behind mist or ash for the last year. I just assumed I was doing it wrong or not putting enough focus behind the spell before.”

 

“He got bonus points for only using two spells.” Draco told the table. “Most of the class had to use nine spells to disarm and immobilise the dummy, it kept breaking free of the weaker spells or deflecting the disarming charm.”

 

“I hope you weren’t one of the ones who took nine spells to combat a simple training dummy.” Lucius drawled.

 

“Of course not! I took three. My freezing charm wasn’t strong enough.”

 

“I can help you with that.” Harry insisted. “It was the last wand movement that let you down, you jerked your wand too hard, it’s a softer flick.”

 

“You really would suit at being a teacher.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry blushed. “I taught twenty-seven people in secret last year while Umbridge was failing at Defence. Every single one of my students got top marks in their exams that year.”

 

“That was the secret club you were running!” Draco burst out. “It was a defence club?”

 

“Yes, you have to agree that Umbridge was an inept teacher, so I took matters into my own hands and I taught others how to defend themselves, no thanks to you and your Inquisitorial Squad.” Harry sneered at him. “I was trying to help them fight, trying to teach them how to defend themselves as Umbridge was a tyrannical fool who taught us nothing because the Minister Fudge is more afraid of losing his office than the education of young witches and wizards.”

 

Rabastan’s hand touched his right hand, where the scars that Umbridge had left lay. Any mention of what that woman had done to him sparked fury within Rabastan and Harry could see that rage in those beautiful blue eyes.

 

“Her trial is coming up soon, isn’t it?” Narcissa asked calmly.

 

“Yes, dear.” Lucius answered. “She will be getting her comeuppance soon.”

 

“Good, I don’t want her to get away with harming my child.”

 

Harry’s gut squirmed pleasantly at that and he felt a warm sensation of acceptance and love wash over him. He’d never get tired of that feeling, never.

 

“She won’t, dear.” Lucius insisted. “With the evidence stacked up against her, she will be going to Azkaban. If our Harry doesn’t have it shut down before then.”

 

Harry bristled with fury at the dig and he struggled to hold his tongue and his temper. He took a deep breath and thought of how to civilly word all of the slurs and the rage fuelled torrent running through his mind that he wanted to spit out all at once to defend himself.

He breathed and calmed himself as much as he could manage and he used his most civil tone of voice to answer, trying to imagine that this was a Wizengamot meeting and not a discussion around a private table.

 

“I do not want Azkaban shut down. I understand the need for a secure prison and a justice system. I am objecting to the presence of the Dementors only.” Harry said calmly, if a bit shakily due to his suppressed anger.

 

“Good. You’re gaining a greater control over yourself and that terrible temper of yours. Well done.”

 

Harry blinked and frowned in confusion and then he blew out a breath as he realised that Lucius hadn’t been picking pieces out of him, but had been testing his control over his anger issues. His shoulders slumped and he blew out another controlled breath before letting his feelings on the matter of being tested in such a way be known to all of them by turning to Rabastan and engaging him in a conversation. 

Unfortunately, the Malfoy New Year party was drawing closer, it was tomorrow evening, and Harry was definitely not looking forward to it, especially as Lucius had told him that he couldn’t exclude an invitation to Rowle, who had unfortunately sent his invitation back replying that he would be attending, but Lucius had assured him that he’d warned the man to stay well away from him during the party.

Harry hoped that Rowle listened to Lucius, because if he didn’t then he would be very happy to curse him…if Rodolphus didn’t cave in his face again. Now that could turn out to be very amusing, maybe the Malfoy New Year’s Ball wouldn’t be quite as bad as he’d been imagining after all. Maybe it could even be fun, after all, he and Rabastan weren’t fighting this time around, so he’d have Rabastan right there next to him all night. He smiled and his hand gripped at Rabastan’s under the table, as they still weren’t allowed to touch while sitting next to one another. He was actually looking forward to this now, though he definitely wasn’t looking forward to Draco poking and pulling on him for half of the afternoon to get him ready. He wasn’t fond of feeling like a human doll.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here you are, lovelies. The next chapter of The Black Heir, I hope you’ve all enjoyed it. It did take me a while to get out, but as I’ve said repeatedly, this is not my priority fic, so updates for this will not be regular or quick, but hopefully they’ll all be at a length that’s acceptable as I refuse to post anything that’s under 6,000 words at a minimum and this fic so far has definitely smashed that at an average chapter length of 15,000. This chapter is actually the shortest to date, but then I’ve been inundated by demands for an update and complaints of how long it’s taking me to post and that naturally makes me want to update it less, not more and it’s all too easy for me to ignore this fic in favour of my others, seeing as I have so many of them, so please just be patient. I’m doing my best and updates will come when they come and not a moment sooner.
> 
> I hope you lovelies have enjoyed this, even if it is considerably shorter than all the previous chapters, I’ll try and do better with the next one,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	10. The Malfoy Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> Harry hoped that Rowle listened to Lucius, because if he didn’t then he would be very happy to curse him…if Rodolphus didn’t cave in his face again. Now that could turn out to be very amusing, maybe the Malfoy New Year’s Ball wouldn’t be quite as bad as he’d been imagining after all. Maybe it could even be fun, after all, he and Rabastan weren’t fighting this time around, so he’d have Rabastan right there next to him all night. He smiled and his hand gripped at Rabastan’s under the table, as they still weren’t allowed to touch while sitting next to one another. He was actually looking forward to this now, though he definitely wasn’t looking forward to Draco poking and pulling on him for half of the afternoon to get him ready. He wasn’t fond of feeling like a human doll.

Chapter Ten – The Malfoy Ball

 

Harry nervously tugged at his robes, this time they were a bright, Egyptian blue with gold embroidery along the hem, cuffs and on either side of the gold fastenings that held his robe closed over his smart shirt underneath.

He was once again wearing black underneath his robes, as apparently, according to Draco, black worked really well as his base colour. But his black shirt had gold cuff links, which no one could actually see as his robe covered his hands but according to Draco that wasn’t the point, and his black sapphire and gold Lestrange crested pendant was on show around his neck. His shoes were highly polished and Harry was really nervous. He didn’t like parties, he’d never been invited to any before the Parkinsons winter gala the week before and that had been disastrous. The Quidditch parties didn’t count as they weren’t really formal parties and he didn’t need to be dressed impeccably for them, most of the time he’d still been in his muddy, sweaty Quidditch robes. The Yule Ball didn’t count either, he’d been forced into that because the fake Moody, Bartemius Crouch Jr, had put his name into that damn goblet and as a ‘champion’ he’d had to perform the first dance. He had danced once and then sat down for the rest of the evening. He would never have chosen to go to the ball by himself if he hadn’t been forced into it by being a Hogwarts champion. He hadn’t even bought his own dress robes for that either, he really did have a terrible dress sense.

 

“You look fine.” Draco insisted. “Stop pulling on your outfit or you’ll ruin it.”

 

“I can’t help it, you know I don’t like this sort of situation.”

 

“You need to get used to it, these sorts of social gatherings happen often throughout the year.”

 

“Please tell me that there isn’t one for Easter.” Harry sighed.

 

“No, the next one is at the beginning of the summer, though you will attend more than I will, seeing as you’re a member of the Wizengamot and they hold a party in April and then the Ministry hold a gathering in August and you will certainly be invited to that too as a technical worker for the Ministry as a member of the Wizengamot. The Ministry pay you, even if they didn’t technically employ you, you’re automatically on their payroll and the employment list because of your Lordships.” Draco happily informed him.

 

Harry groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t have enough sets of dress robes to cover all of these parties.”

 

“Of course you do, your third set now will be used for the Wizengamot party and before August we will have gone shopping for our new school things. Mother and Father will have parties for their birthdays, but we’ll be in school for those and then there are our own birthdays, of course, but those won’t strictly be a dress up affair as it’ll just be a few friends and family, so dress robes won’t be required. Father has worked it all out, stop fretting.”

 

Harry scowled at himself in the mirror. He was in Draco’s bed suite and they were waiting for the ‘children’ to arrive, as they had at the Parkinsons party, only this time they were the hosts.

 

“I can’t wait for this to be over.” He complained as he watched Draco fluff up his baby fine, blond hair.

 

“Midnight.” Draco reminded him yet again. “Some of Father’s friends may stay for a while afterwards, but we won’t be required to stay with them, now hand me that brush, I don’t like the parting of my hair.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes but he dutifully got Draco’s brush and handed it to him, watching curiously as Draco once again brushed all of his hair back, parted his hair yet again and styled it meticulously.

 

“How does the back look? And Merlin help me don’t just grunt ‘fine’ again.”

 

“You look stunning.” Harry told him with another roll of his eyes. “There are no creases in your robes and there isn’t a hair out of place.” Harry answered dutifully.

 

Draco nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect then.”

 

There was a knock on the door and Draco got rid of his brush.

 

“That had better be Blaise.” He muttered to Harry as he went to pull open the door.

 

Narcissa was down in the receiving room and she was greeting everyone as the hostess of the party and she was directing them where to go, the children up to Draco’s bedroom and any early arriving adults into the ballroom where Lucius was with Xerxes, Rodolphus and Rabastan. Xerxes had banned Rhadamanthus from coming as ‘punishment’ for his lack of control on Christmas Day. Harry was incredibly grateful for that. He hadn’t seen Rhadamanthus at all since Christmas Day and things had been infinitely more peaceful and relaxed without him lurking and skulking around.

 

“Thank Merlin it’s you.” Draco said as he opened the door and pulled Blaise into the room.

 

Blaise gave a short whistle and an appreciative look to Harry when he spotted him. “Are you still free?” He asked with a lecherous grin. “Please tell me that you’re free.”

 

Harry scowled and looked down at himself. He didn’t think he looked that good, he’d definitely preferred the red robes to the blue, but other than that, he looked normal. He turned back to the mirror and frowned harder, he was exactly the same as always.

 

“Stop perving on my brother.” Draco snapped. “He’s not free anymore, he worked out his problems with his betrothed like a man. Now come here, I have something to tell you before everyone else arrives.”

 

Harry chuckled at Draco’s protectiveness and he ignored the both of them as they started gossiping like old women in a tea shop about this and that, Harry certainly wasn’t interested as he sat and daydreamed about Rabastan and how good he’d looked in the charcoal grey dress robes he’d chosen to wear for tonight. Harry was almost sure that Rabastan had ordered them especially for tonight because he’d commented on how good Rabastan would look in dark grey and fuck did he look good in dark grey.

The door knocked again and Draco and Blaise were too busy giggling like girls over whatever Draco had needed to tell Blaise to take any notice, so Harry rolled his eyes and went to open the door.

He smiled genuinely at Theo and invited him in.

 

“How have you been?” Harry asked him.

 

“Alright.” Theo answered unconvincingly. “You?”

 

“Fine, but I get the feeling that you aren’t being entirely truthful, Theo. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

 

Harry clicked then, as he remembered that Daphne was supposed to be staying with the Nott’s for Christmas and that Daphne should have arrived with Theo.

 

“Where’s Daphne?”

 

“Who cares?!” Blaise called out from where he and Draco were sat.

 

Harry sighed. “Don’t listen to them, what’s happened?”

 

“I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the façade that nothing’s wrong.” Theo told him quietly, so that the others couldn’t hear him.

 

Harry nodded. He opened Draco’s door wider and led Theo out and down the corridor, all the way to his own bedroom and he shut the door and offered Theo a seat and then sat next to him.

 

“We’ll have privacy here, now tell me, why do you feel the need to keep up the façade in the first place?”

 

“Because my Father wants me to!” Theo told him, hunching forward and putting his face into his hands.

 

“Theo, this is your life, not his.” Harry said kindly. “If you don’t love her, then you shouldn’t be with her.”

 

“I don’t. I don’t love her, I haven’t for a while now.”

 

Harry was surprised at that, he hadn’t seen past the façade that Theo had put up, if truth be told he hadn’t actually looked all that hard, he’d just accepted it which was even worse as Theo had probably wanted someone to see past the ruse and to reach out to him, but now that carefully constructed façade was cracking, Theo was at his absolute limit.

 

“Break off your contract.” Harry urged him. “You have other options.”

 

Theo snorted. “What other options? One of Lord Selwyn’s hideous daughters? Pansy?”

 

“There are foreign Pureblood witches.” Harry told him. “Think of how much harder it’ll be for them over yourself. They have to leave their home country, their family, perhaps not even knowing any English, to come here to marry you, to live in your home. But think about it Theo, you might actually like someone else, you could actually fall in love, don’t you even want to try for that instead of letting Daphne humiliate you time after time?”

 

“She does humiliate me, doesn’t she?” Theo sighed, as if he’d been trying not to think of it. “She…she actually fucked one of my Father’s business associates in my bed the other day. He was fifty-four years old and she didn’t care, she made sure that it was in my bed, not the one in the guest room that she had been given, but my own bed at a time when she knew that I’d come to find her. I think that was once too many. It was too unforgivable, but my Father is insisting that I let it go, like all the other times, that I still go ahead with the betrothal and the wedding, but I don’t know if I can anymore, Harry.”

 

“Then don’t. You should not accept such behaviour from anyone, it’s so disrespectful, Theo and you know it too. You know you don’t deserve it or you wouldn’t be having such thoughts and doubts. You’re right, Theo, what she’s done is unforgivable, it was unforgivable from the very first instance, but this, she’s pushing you with the full belief that she’ll get away with it, that you’ll just take it because you always have before and she’s doing it purposefully. She knows that your Father want’s the money, the prestige and the title of Heir of the Greengrass line that’ll come with her marrying you for his own house, so she believes that she can always get away with it. Everything that she’s done to you is unforgivable and you shouldn’t have to accept it. Do you really want to look at your children in ten years’ time and have to wonder if they’re actually even yours? Fuck what your Father wants, what the hell do _you_ want?”

 

“Not this.” Theo told him. “Not her.”

 

“Do you have any idea what people say about you, Theo? How weak they think you are because you put up with Daphne and everything that she does to humiliate and shame you? She thinks that she can do no wrong, that she can do anything and get away with it and still have a respectable marriage at the end of it. People think that you’re a push over because you won’t get rid of her, this isn’t your Father’s betrothal, it’s not his marriage or his life, it’s yours!”

 

“I’ve tried to broach the subject with him, but…”

 

“Don’t ‘broach the subject’ with him, bloody tell him!” Harry insisted sternly. “In his quest to get more money and power, he’s going to ruin your entire future, your happiness! How can you just stand passively by and watch him do that to you, Theo?”

 

Theo looked away unhappily and Harry was saddened to see how broken Theo was over all of this. He shook his head and reached forward to hold Theo’s hands comfortingly.

 

“You need to do what makes you happy, Theo. You need to break off this poisonous betrothal and put it behind you. Your Father can’t dictate to you who you love. He put you into this betrothal when you were just a child because of greed, because he wants the Greengrass money, you know that yourself. Everyone knows that. He isn’t thinking of the most important thing in all of this, you. Don’t let him ruin your life for money, Theo. Please, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

 

Theo chuckled mirthlessly and pulled one hand from Harry’s and covered his eyes.

 

“You’ve only known me properly for a couple of months, how can you care more about me than anyone else? Than my own Father?”

 

“Because I’m not a greedy, money grabbing prick?” Harry said and he got a laugh for his efforts. “You’re worth more than this, Theo. You deserve more than a dirty slut who’ll sleep with anyone and everyone, even a fifty-four year old married stranger, and a Father who cares more about money than he does about you and your happiness. Fuck them both and do what you want.”

 

“What if he disowns me?” Theo said quietly, voicing one of his deepest fears Harry realised by the way that he avoided eye contact. “I couldn’t take the shame of being a Pureblood with no house.”

 

“There is no shame on you for his actions, but there is for your own, you gather more shame the longer you allow yourself to be treated like a doormat by your Father and by your future Wife, that is your shame because it is your choice to put up with it. If that bastard you call a Father actually disowns his only child, bereaving his own line of it’s only Heir, then he’s a complete fucking fool. He won’t risk it, Theo.”

 

“But what if he does?” Theo argued angrily.

 

“Then I’ll adopt you as a member of the Black family, or did you forget that I’m the Lord of House Potter and House Black?”

 

Theo looked totally shocked. “You…you’d do that? You’d adopt me as a Black?”

 

“If you needed me to, I will. Of course I don’t expect your Father to disown his only Heir, no matter how foolish he is, but if he actually did, yes, I would adopt you. I already have to worry about producing an Heir for the Potter and Lestrange families, without worrying about the Black line too. Three houses is just too many to juggle. I’d need three sons just to cover all of the houses.”

 

“I…I don’t really know what to say, Harry. Thank you.”

 

“You may not even need it, your Father can’t afford to lose you as his only Heir, you don’t even have any sisters who could bring the Lordship of the Nott family to her Husband, but if you do need it, the offer is there.” Harry insisted with a smile. “Now you do what you want to do and you don’t need to worry about anything or about being disowned, because I’d adopt you straight away into the Black family and I would strike your Father down to nothing, discredit and ruin him in all social and professional circles and I’d make sure that he thoroughly regretted ever disowning you in the first place. For not seeing the son he actually has and instead thinking only of monetary gain.”

 

Theo stood up and pulled Harry to his feet and embraced him so tightly that Harry was worried that his very newly healed bruises on his ribs would come back, but he happily hugged Theo back and just held him as Theo cried silently in gratitude and released tension and emotion into his neck, having to slump down in order to do so.

Of course that would have been when Draco came storming in to demand where he’d gotten to.

 

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing?!” Draco raged. “Are you trying to destroy your own betrothal? With _him_ of all people!”

 

“Calm down, it’s not what you think it is.” Harry said calmly as he blocked Theo from Draco’s view so that he could subtly wipe his eyes and tidy himself up a little. “I’ve just helped Theo in a massive way, that’s all. I love Rabastan with all that I am, you know that better than most, Draco.”

 

“Then you shouldn’t be touching him like that!” Draco insisted.

 

“It’s not what you think.” Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“What would Father think? What would _Rabastan_ think?!” Draco demanded.

 

“You really love making drama, Draco.” Theo said as he squeezed Harry’s shoulders in thanks. “You always have. If you must know, Harry has convinced me to break off my betrothal with Daphne.”

 

Draco frowned then and looked from one to the other as if trying to work out if he was being railroaded or not by a fake story.

 

“You aren’t getting together with one another, are you?”

 

“I’m not gay.” Theo said simply.

 

“Still very much in love with Rabastan and definitely not changing my mind.” Harry said tonelessly. “I want to marry Rabastan and have lots and lots of babies with him.”

 

“That’s disgusting, I’d rather not have to think of that, thank you!” Draco sneered.

 

“Then stop seeing things that aren’t there.” Harry demanded. “I’m helping out a friend, nothing more! It’s none of your business!”

 

“Oh? Is it Rabastan’s business to know you’re cosying up to another man, do you think?”

 

Harry grit his teeth. “I was not cosying up to another man!” Harry hissed.

 

“Why don’t we see what Rabastan thinks.”

 

Harry dived at Draco and yanked him backwards by his robes as he turned to scurry off. They both ended up on the floor, Harry laying on Draco’s back.

 

“If anyone is going to say anything to him, it’ll be me!” Harry shouted. “It’s none of your fucking business, Draco! Stop trying to make trouble when you know that Rabastan and I are only just getting over our last fight.”

 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be secluding yourself away in your bedroom and being intimate with another man!” Draco shouted.

 

“What?”

 

Harry’s stomach vanished and his heart missed a beat as he looked up to the open door and to the furious dark brown eyes of Rodolphus Lestrange. For a moment he feared that he was going to be cursed, or even killed, and then Rodolphus stormed off and Harry knew, he just knew, that he was going to Rabastan. That he was going to tell Rabastan what he’d overheard before Harry had a chance to explain and everything was going to blow up in his face again. All because he’d been helping and comforting a friend. Why did it always happen to him?

Harry stood up quickly, stumbling a little in his haste, and he kicked Draco in the ribs. Hard.

 

“If I lose my betrothal because of your loud mouth I will never, ever, forgive you.” He said seriously. “Pimsey!”

 

“Yes, young master, what can Pimsey be doing for you?”

 

“Take me to Rabastan Lestrange, now.” Harry ordered her, holding out his hand.

 

Pimsey took it and they were just gone and Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes, to see a startled Rabastan looking at him.

 

“Thank you, Pimsey.” Harry said as kindly as he could manage in that moment.

 

“Harry, you’re supposed to be upstairs greeting our young guests.” Lucius told him. He was stood beside Rabastan, in a group of several other men who were all looking at him curiously.

 

“I know. Rabastan, I need a word, quickly.”

 

“What has happened?” Rabastan asked, looking him over in obvious concern.

 

“Time is of the essence.” Harry insisted primly.

 

“Okay.” Rabastan agreed easily and went to walk out the double doorway that led further into the manor house, the same way that Rodolphus would be coming in and Harry tried not to panic, knowing that he had only minutes to get Rabastan out of the ballroom and away from the path of an irate Rodolphus.

 

“No, not that way. Let’s go into the garden.”

 

“Harry.” Lucius warned as the group of men he was stood with all got smirks or knowing grins on their faces.

 

“You can give me a chaperone if you wish, Father.” He said respectfully. “I just really need to talk to Rabastan, right now.”

 

“What in the name of Merlin has happened?” Xerxes asked him.

 

“Nothing!” Harry insisted, his gaze darting to the door without his permission. Rodolphus would be storming through it at any moment. “We need to go, now.”

 

Xerxes sighed. “I’ll chaperone you, but whatever you’ve done, this is a poor way to try and hide from it.”

 

“I’m not hiding from it, I’m actually trying to head it off. The ‘it’ being the rage monster that is Rodolphus, now can we please leave this room before he comes in here and breaks my neck, please?”

 

“Rodolphus is angry?” Rabastan said, digging his heels in then and looking to the doorway, looking like he wanted to go and comfort his brother.

 

“What did you do?” Lucius sighed.

 

“I didn’t do anything, Draco and his loud mouth have done all the damage and Rodolphus got the wrong end of the stick and now I am _trying_ to explain to my future husband what is going on before Rodolphus comes storming in here with half-truths and a partially overheard conversation and blows my betrothal to pieces.”

 

“Well in that case, get moving.” Xerxes insisted, pushing the both of them along. “Start walking, Basti, Rodolphus can cope without you coddling him for five minutes while you talk to Harry.”

 

They made it out into the garden and Harry blew out a relieved breath, he’d managed to buy himself a little time at least, now he just needed to get Rabastan to understand that nothing had actually happened with him and Theo. He pulled Rabastan quickly into a half hidden walkway of balled rose trees and fragrant herb bushes and made sure that Xerxes wasn’t within earshot, as Rabastan deserved to hear this first, before he stopped and looked firmly at Rabastan.

 

“What is going on?” His betrothed asked confusedly.

 

“You know Theodore and I are friends?”

 

“The Nott boy, yes. What of it?”

 

“He’s betrothed to that complete tart, Daphne.”

 

Rabastan snorted. “That’s one way to put it. I don’t think there’s a man in that ballroom whose son, grandson or nephew hasn’t had a taste of her. Some of them have slept with her personally and they’re thrice the age of her.”

 

“Well, I’ve been saying for a while that Theo should break off his engagement to her, he doesn’t deserve the shit she puts him through. He’s only still with her because his Father is forcing him into it because he wants the Greengrass fortune and the Greengrass title for his own son or grandson.”

 

“Everyone knows this, what does it have to do with my brother?”

 

Harry sighed. “I finally convinced Theo to break off his engagement tonight, he was visibly upset when he arrived, so I took him to my bedroom so that Blaise and Draco wouldn’t see and humiliate him more than what Daphne already does. It was just for him to calm down. We sat on my settee, talking, about what he actually wants out of his life, out of a marriage and why he thought that he couldn’t have it and I convinced him to break off his contract. He was mostly worried about his Father disowning him.”

 

“He’s an only child, the only Heir, not even Nott would be so stupid as to end his own line with a disownment, especially not merely because his Heir won’t marry the whore he set him up with. No one has an obligation to marry from a mere betrothal contract, they can be broken as easily as glass.”

 

“That’s what I said, but he was still very worried about it, he seemed convinced that he would be disowned if he stood up to his Father and broke off his contract, so I told him that if he was disowned then I’d adopt him into the Black family. He was very grateful and he hugged me, he was actually sobbing on my shoulder, but Draco burst in, got the entirely wrong end of the stick and started shouting and Rodolphus overheard him and he couldn’t wait to come and tell you that I was sequestered away in my bedroom with another man when that wasn’t what happened at all.”

 

Harry fell silent and stared at Rabastan, who was blank faced and unmoving. One large hand clenched into a fist.

 

“That boy touched you?”

 

Harry wrapped both his hands around that fist and kissed it. “No. Well, yes, but not like that, Rabastan, not like how we touch one another. It was just a hug because I’d taken the burden from him, I’d enabled him to do what he wanted to do for once. I’ve given him the means to break off his betrothal and taken the worry away from being disowned.”

 

“The Black title should go to our children!” Rabastan hissed.

 

“Our children will still have the Potter and Lestrange titles.” Harry argued. “Technically, neither one of us is even a Black! I only got that title because of my Godfather, Rabastan. Otherwise it wouldn’t even be open for us to use! Isn’t two Houses enough? I’m struggling to juggle my responsibilities for two houses, Rabastan, sorting out those damn portfolios and all the responsibilities, what if we only have one son? Are you really going to lumber him with _three_ titles? Three Lordships? It’s too much!”

 

“So you’re going to give away all of our titles?!” Rabastan demanded.

 

Harry took a deep breath when the red hot anger spiked inside him. He tried to calm himself and he squeezed the hand that he still held between both of his own.

 

“I offered my friend, who is stuck in a betrothal with a witless whore because his Father is a greedy, money hungry bastard, the option of being adopted into the Black family if his Father disowned him when he breaks his betrothal contract because he deserves better. How is that giving away our titles and lordships?” Harry bit out as calmly as he could through gritted teeth.

 

“You barely know him.”

 

“You know what? I don’t care! I’d do exactly the same thing again, if you can’t accept that then it’s fucking tough!” Harry said angrily, dropping Rabastan’s hand and moving to walk away. Rabastan grabbed him and Harry found himself face to face with an angry Lestrange, those beautiful blue eyes sparking with his fury.

 

“Do you want Nott?”

 

Harry glared back. “Are we going to do this _again_ , Rabastan? Again?”

 

“Do. You. Want. Him?!” Rabastan ground out.

 

“No!” Harry shouted out. “I only want you, you thick headed, overly jealous prat!”

 

“So there’s nothing between you?”

 

“You know what? I can’t deal with you anymore. Are you trying to tell me that I can’t have any friends?!”

 

“No! I just don’t want them touching you.”

 

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. “He was hugging me in gratitude, it wasn’t the same!”

 

Rabastan grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. Harry fought for a moment, before he all but melted into the embrace and snuggled his face into Rabastan’s neck.

 

“So it wasn’t like this?” Rabastan asked quietly.

 

“Not even close.” Harry replied as he pushed one hand into Rabastan’s hair and massaged his scalp with his fingertips.

 

“You still love me?”

 

Harry laughed. “Rabastan, I’ve only ever loved you. You’re the first and only, just, please, please stop being so jealous over nothing, you’ll set us onto a road to destruction before we’re even married and I can’t have that. It’s not an environment I ever want to bring children into. If I was hugging him like this and confessing everlasting love then I’d understand, but I wasn’t. I’ve just helped him out of a terrible situation and he was grateful. He doesn’t even like me that way, he likes women.”

 

“I didn’t mean what I said. You can have friends and you can do what you want with your own Lordships, as long as you still become a Lestrange, as long as you marry me, I don’t care about anything else. I just want you and I want you to want me.”

 

“I do. Of course I do. I don’t like boys, Rabastan, I like men. I love you. How can you still doubt me?”

 

“I don’t, otherwise I would have been upstairs cursing that Nott boy instead of still down here with you.”

 

Harry sighed and he pulled Rabastan back into a tight hug.

 

“So we’re okay and you don’t mind that I said I’d adopt Theo if his fool of a Father disowns him? I’d still be Lord Black, but Theo would be my Heir.”

 

“No, I don’t mind, but I still don’t think Nott will disown his only son and Heir. As for us, we’re going to be fine.”

 

Harry smiled and he pulled back slightly to kiss him full on the mouth and Rabastan responded immediately. Rabastan’s arms wrapped around him and Harry went up on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Rabastan’s neck as their kiss grew in intensity.  

The addiction to that mouth, to those lips, to Rabastan’s tongue, came back to him in full force and Harry’s arms clenched tighter as the kiss deepened and one of Rabastan’s hands cupped his cheek and tilted his head and the new angle made everything that much more perfect as Rabastan’s other hand slipped down to grope his bum…and that was when their kiss ended as Harry suddenly found himself yanked down to the ground and he looked up to see Rabastan picking himself out of a rosemary bush.

He laughed, he couldn’t help it as he watched an enraged Rabastan struggling out of the herb plant, picking the needles from his robes and his hair in furious swipes of his large hands.

 

“I thought that you two were getting a little too cosy.” Xerxes told them unapologetically, twirling his wand in his fingers. “I let it go on for a little while, knowing that you needed to reconnect after your little spat, but when it looked like you’d throw off all of your clothes right here in the garden, then I had to step in. Can I assume that from your passionate lip lock that things are once again fine between you both?”

 

Harry looked at Rabastan and smiled.

 

“Everything’s fine.” Rabastan answered, smiling back at Harry and pulling him into a hug. “Harry is a good friend and the Nott boy was a bit, handsy, in his gratitude towards Harry’s kindness. There was nothing to the exchange but friendly interaction. Draco has a loud mouth and Rodolphus overheard a fraction of a conversation and jumped to conclusions.”

 

“Your little spats really must stop. Communication is the key here.” Xerxes told them seriously.

 

“We’re just working everything out.” Harry insisted with a grin. “We’re both passionate men, our tempers run high so we have little fights, but we’re also intelligent, rational men too, we’ll work it all out and find where everything fits.”

 

“Is everything fitting how you wanted it to?” Xerxes asked with narrowed eyes.

 

“Not exactly, but that’s how relationships work, it’s all about compromising to accept another person with their own thoughts and feelings into your own life. Compromise is an important requirement in any relationship, not just marriage. If Rabastan fit exactly into me and my schedule with no compromise or wriggling around or any need for me to compromise my own life around him, then I’d have been highly suspicious and worried. So though it doesn’t fit exactly, we’re working on it and I actually think Rabastan and I fit together really well because we’re accepting of one another’s personalities and faults.”

 

Xerxes grinned at him and Rabastan smiled softly, bending down to give him a peck on the lips.

 

“You really are incredibly mature for your young age.” Xerxes complimented him. “Come on, the both of you, I think we’ve been away from the gathering for far too long already. Lucius will start to question my motives and he’ll prevent me from being a chaperone in future. He’s far too overprotective of you, Harry. He’s like a jealous bear when it comes to his sons.”

 

Harry laughed and looked at himself, he was perfectly clean and unrumpled, though he brushed his robe down regardless. The pathways had all been cleared of snow so that their guests could walk through the garden unobstructed by snow, so there was nothing for him to get wet or dirty on.

Rabastan on the other hand was distinctly rumpled and still covered in rosemary needles. Harry chuckled and brushed him down and straightened out his shirt and robe for him, smiling up at him once he was done. He got another kiss, this one slightly longer than a peck, for his care.

 

“I love you.” Rabastan declared strongly.

 

“I love you more.” Harry insisted with a grin, taking Rabastan’s hand and leading him back into the manor via the ballroom.

 

He’d almost forgotten about Rodolphus in his joy over his love for Rabastan. Or at least he’d forgotten how very angry the man had been, all it took was one look into his fuming face, those enraged eyes, and he knew that he was still in trouble.

 

“He’s going to kill me.” He said with a grimace.

 

“Who?” Rabastan demanded protectively, before he caught sight of his older brother’s face. “Let me deal with him, you go and get a drink.”

 

“We should do this together.” Harry insisted.

 

“Dolphus likes to act first and listen later, go and get a drink and then come back, so I’ve had a chance to start talking to him.”

 

Harry nodded and squeezed Rabastan’s hand before he made his way to the drinks table.

 

“Did you make up?”

 

Harry glared at Draco, who had Astoria on his arm, before ignoring him, picking up a glass of pumpkin juice.

 

“Don’t ignore me.” Draco hissed.

 

“You’d deserve it.” Harry hissed back. “You could have lost me my betrothal!”

 

“I didn’t mean to!” Draco whined. “I wasn’t even going to tell Rabastan, I didn’t know Rodolphus was walking down the corridor at that exact moment!”

 

Harry sighed and tried to see the Lestrange brothers through the backs of the thronging people in the ballroom. They’d moved off into a more secluded corner of the ballroom for privacy.

 

“Rabastan and I are fine. I explained what happened before Rodolphus reached the ballroom and Rabastan understands that Theo and I are just friends. There was nothing in the hug he gave me, just gratitude and relief. It’s completely different to even holding Rabastan’s hand. I’d go one further and say that there was more intimacy in me just sitting next to Rabastan than in the hug that Theo and I shared. There’s no passion, no attraction there. There is only Rabastan for me.”

 

“And Flint.” Draco put in helpfully.

 

Harry smiled. “No.” He shook his head. “I liked Marcus, he was easy to talk to, but again, there was nothing there between us. It was slightly awkward to tell you the truth. There is only Rabastan. I’m drawn to him, there’s just something about him and I can’t resist it. He makes me laugh, he makes me happy and dear Merlin is he a good kisser!”

 

Astoria giggled and Harry winked at her before turning back to his brother.

 

“There’s only Rabastan for me, Draco. I don’t want anyone else. Anyway, enough about me, how are you, Astoria? You look very beautiful tonight.”

 

Astoria was in a flowing dress of the palest pink that Harry could imagine, from a distance it might even be mistaken for white. Her pale blonde hair was tied up in an elegant knot with pale, pearlescent pink clips and she seemed to have made more of an effort for this party than she had with the last. He wondered if it was because her future in-laws were the ones hosting or if it was because Draco had actually paid her some attention during the Parkinsons’ winter gala and she was expecting him to do the same at this party so she’d taken more care. Maybe it was both.

 

“Thank you, I am very well. You look very handsome tonight. That shade of blue really suits you, slightly darker and paired with the black, it compliments you very well. You should try a darker green too, paired with your eyes, it would look stunning.”

 

Harry grimaced. “My last set of robes are dark green. Draco told me to save them for the Wizengamot party in April.”

 

Astoria looked approvingly at her future Husband. “Yes, you always save your best colour and the most expensive cut for the more important parties.”  

 

Draco held out his hand, looking a little shamefaced. “I’m sorry for almost ruining your betrothal.”

 

Harry sighed, gripped Draco’s hand and pulled him into a hug. “You’re forgiven, just don’t do it again! I’m in control of two Beaters on the Quidditch pitch who will happily take your head off if I tell them too.”

 

Draco laughed and Astoria giggled.

 

“I need to get back to Rabastan. He should have calmed Rodolphus down by now.”

 

“Be careful. Rodolphus is the scarier of the two.”

 

Harry grinned. “I’m sure he’s like a guard dog, you just need to find out where to rub him to get him flat out on his back.”

 

Astoria blushed hard and even Draco looked shocked. Harry laughed.

 

“I don’t recommend trying it!” Draco called out after him as Harry picked up two glasses of water and made his way over to where he’d last seen Rodolphus, from there he worked his way to the nearest corner, where a private, hushed conversation could be held.

 

He found them only too easily, they were still big, tall men even if they were slightly skeletal to look at still. Rodolphus was looking furious and unconvinced and Rabastan was looking as equally angry and frustrated.

 

“You!” Rodolphus hissed as soon as he laid eyes on Harry. “You will take Veritaserum and prove without all doubt that you were not being intimate with anyone!”

 

“Rodolphus, no!” Rabastan growled out. “I don’t care what you think, I believe him! That should be enough!”

 

“It’s not!” Rodolphus insisted with a harsh scowl that made his face seem more like his wanted posters from Azkaban. “If he doesn’t have anything to hide, then what’s the problem? Or are you afraid of finding out that perhaps your dearly beloved boy has been messing with others while you’ve been singing his praises and raising him up on a pedestal as the perfectly pure consort?” Rodolphus challenged.

 

“He hasn’t been!” Rabastan insisted firmly and Harry’s heart swelled with love for this man. How could anyone think that he would ever cheat on Rabastan? How could they not see how much he dearly loved him? He had no need for anyone else.

 

“I’ll do it.” He said simply, cutting through their hushed argument in one of the corners of the ballroom, where they’d gone for a bit of privacy, though naturally everyone close to them were leaning in and straining their ears to try and hear them, even though they’d cast a privacy ward.

 

“No! I won’t let you! You’re my betrothed, not his! It’s up to me to demand such testing, not him and I won’t do it. I don’t believe any of these falsehoods and lies, Rodolphus. No!”

 

“Actually, I believe it’s up to me if I want to do it or not and I won’t stand by and watch you two fighting with one another over something that can easily be cleared up with a few drops of potion. I haven’t done anything, I have nothing to hide and therefore nothing to fear. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to believe that I truly love your brother, Rodolphus, but I do. There has been no one else and I consent to your test.”

 

“I’ll send Lucius to Severus immediately.” Rodolphus said shortly and stormed off.

 

“I don’t want you doing this, Harry.” Rabastan said upset. “I believe you, I know there is nothing going on. I trust you when you say that. What does it matter if Rodolphus doesn’t? You’re marrying me, not him! He can accept it or he can leave us alone.”

 

Harry smiled softly and handed over the second glass of water and he used his free hand to cup Rabastan’s cheek. It was firmer than it had been when he’d first met him, there was more flesh to it so it didn’t feel like the skin was stretched right over the bone. His Rabastan was getting better, he was getting healthier in almost unseen ways. Harry was so proud of him and it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it.

 

“I don’t want you and Rodolphus fighting, least of all over me, Rabastan. You need your brother, you two have been through so much together and I never, ever want to come between you both. I’m going to pass his little test and if it at all helps him to accept that I haven’t been messing you around, I’ll do it. He’s so protective of you and at the moment he fully believes that I’m playing with you and your emotions, he thinks that I’m humiliating you and disrespecting you without your knowledge and he isn’t going to accept that I’m not until he’s got irrefutable proof that I’m not. I’m willing to give him the proof that he needs to stop all this fighting, because I don’t like seeing you upset and fighting with Rodolphus always makes you upset.”

 

Rabastan swallowed and hugged him tight, pulling him into his chest. He felt firmer to Harry, less bony and he could stay standing for up to forty minutes now before he needed to sit down. Harry hugged him tighter and pressed his face into Rabastan’s robes.

Lucius looked furious when he came over to get him, Harry thought that it was because he was breaking the betrothal terms by being so close and openly affectionate to Rabastan in public, but as Lucius directed him and Rabastan to a private sitting room, where an equally angry Xerxes was waiting with a stubbornly set Rodolphus, Harry had to think if Lucius wasn’t actually offended at being asked to prove his adopted son’s intentions in such a way.

 

“Let’s get this over with quickly.” Xerxes muttered, sending a filthy look towards Rodolphus. Harry had the insane thought that perhaps Xerxes didn’t quite believe that nothing had happened and it made him even more determined to do this.

 

“Stick out your tongue, Harry.” Lucius told him shortly.

 

Harry did as he was asked and the three Lestrange men watched closely as three precise drops were placed on his tongue.

One moment he was fine, the next his head had gone blank and fuzzy and his body relaxed completely, his arms going straight and loose by his sides as his back and shoulders slumped.

 

“You are Harry James Potter.” Lucius stated.

 

“Yes.” He replied automatically, he hadn’t even thought about the question, he’d just answered immediately.

 

“You are Heir to the Potter and Black houses.”

 

“No. I am the Lord of those houses.” Harry answered again without thinking about anything. It was like his brain was no longer attached to his mouth.

 

“The sorting hat put you into Gryffindor house.”

 

“I chose Gryffindor. The hat wanted me in Slytherin.” Harry couldn’t have held that statement back if he’d tried, he couldn’t even think, he couldn’t react, he just answered.

 

“You are an adoptee of the Malfoy house.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you satisfied that the potion is in full effect?” Lucius asked Rodolphus smarmily.

 

“Get on with it.” Rodolphus growled.

 

“Harry, were you in any way intimate with one, Theodore Nott, this evening?” Lucius asked him.

 

“No.” Harry answered simply.

 

“I told you!” Rabastan insisted furiously.

 

Rodolphus bared his teeth. “Have you been intimate with anyone other than my brother, Rabastan Lestrange?!”

 

“That wasn’t one of the predetermined quest…” Rabastan started furiously, but Harry, forced to answer because of the potion controlling him, cut across.

 

“Yes.”

 

“With who?” Lucius asked as Rodolphus looked triumphant and Rabastan looked crushed.

 

“Cho Chang, we kissed in my fifth year. I didn’t like it.”

 

“Before his betrothal, before I’d even adopted him.” Lucius sneered at Rodolphus.

 

“Do you love my brother, Rabastan Lestrange?”

 

“That is enough!” Lucius commanded.

 

“Yes.” Harry answered simply.

 

“Are you completely untouched and pure?” Rodolphus asked quickly as Lucius took out the small bottle of antidote, glaring at Rodolphus.

 

“Yes.” Harry answered just as Lucius cupped his cheek and placed more drops onto his tongue and slowly, ever so slowly, Harry felt the fuzziness slipping away.

 

His mouth felt strange, like someone had rubbed a fluffy sock over his tongue and he was slightly disorientated, almost confused, but he remembered everything clearly. He worked his mouth, testing that it was back in his control as his thoughts came back and he was able to think again.

He blinked and accepted the glass of water that was offered to him, drinking it down to get rid of the strange, cottony feeling in his mouth. As soon as he was done and he had handed the empty glass back to Lucius, Rabastan was there, holding him close and tight.

 

“You owe him an apology for forcing him through this, Rodolphus! You accused him falsely of impurity and you demanded answers from questions that we did not agree to ask!” Rabastan growled to his older brother.

 

“Rabastan is correct. You accused Harry of all sorts and now you must amend your mistake.” Xerxes insisted, looking so much happier, his back was straighter, his shoulders held high. He had thought that Harry had done something, either with Theo or Marcus or even someone else, it didn’t matter. Harry was glad that he’d proven them all wrong. Or right in Lucius and Rabastan’s case.

 

Rodolphus blew out a heavy breath, before standing straighter, looking him dead in the eyes and holding his gaze. “I’m sorry that I wrongly accused you of being with others. I was merely protecting my brother and I will always do so, but in this case, I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

 

Harry nodded. “I know you were doing it for Rabastan, that’s why I agreed to it. But I do love him, I really do. No one else has ever turned my head.”

 

“What about that Cho Chang?” Xerxes asked.

 

“I only went out with her because I thought that it was what I was supposed to do, that that was what people did, asking girls out on dates to Hogsmeade. It was before I realised that maybe I’d prefer men instead. She kissed me and it just…it was just terrible.” He confessed.

 

That broke the tension and set everyone off laughing. Rabastan’s arms clenched around him and he nuzzled into his hair. Harry felt a kiss and he smiled.

 

“I need to go and wash my face a moment, it feels strange and all rubbery, like it’s not mine.” He said with a grimace.

 

“An after effect of the potion.” Xerxes told him and Harry nodded his understanding.

 

“Excuse me a moment.”

 

Harry was smiling happily as he made his way through the manor to the downstairs bathroom. Thankfully it was free because he didn’t really want to wait. He wanted to get back to Rabastan. He ducked his face and cupped his hands into the flow of cold water to splash his face.

He felt a little more normal and he swished his mouth out too, to get rid of the dry feeling he had that seemed stuck to his tongue like an unmovable coating. He’d never tried Veritaserum before, he really didn’t like the effects of it, nor the after effects for that matter.

He hoped that now he had been proven to be ‘pure’ and in love with Rabastan that all the aggression and tension would ease off, he didn’t want to fight with Rodolphus all the damn time. He was his brother-in-law, he wanted to get on with him, for Rabastan’s sake more than anything else, but Rodolphus would be his children’s Uncle one day, everything would be so much easier if he got on with Rabastan’s family and Rabastan with his family.

He sighed and lifted his head and he had no time at all to react as he saw another reflection in the mirror, right before his head was bashed into it. Dazed, confused and now in pain, Harry collapsed to the floor and he couldn’t react in time when a large body dropped onto him, forcing all the air out of his lungs as large hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed painfully tight, cutting off his windpipe so much that he was reduced to fighting for every breath, inhaling in painful, stuttered gasps.

 

“You little shit, how dare you humiliate me in front of all of those people!” The man snarled at him.

 

Harry was shocked to find that it was Rowle sitting on top of him, looking no worse for wear after Rodolphus had rearranged his face for him exactly a week ago.

 

“Get…off!” Harry demanded, trying to draw in enough air to breathe.

 

“I am Thorfinn Rowle! I am a Pureblood of prestige, I will not let some half-blood scum pretending to be a Pureblood reject me!”

 

“You…deluded…fool.” Harry choked out, his own hands curled around Rowle’s fingers, trying to pry them off of his neck to no avail.

 

“Let’s see if that drooling, twitching cripple still wants you when I’ve had you and you’re growing with my child.” Rowle snarled, letting go of his neck suddenly and ripping open the front of his robes, the gold fastenings flying everywhere as the expensive fabric tore. “If he actually does, seeing as the pathetic excuse for a man is desperate, then I’ll just have to dispose of him and take you for myself. It shouldn’t be too difficult with the poor state of heath he’s in and I’d have the biggest claim to you, being the Father of your child. No one else would even look at you, you soiled whore!”

 

Harry used his hands to push at Rowle, trying to get away from him and cursing the fact that he hadn’t thought to lock the bathroom door, he was only going to wash his face, he hadn’t thought he’d need to lock it behind him.

The icy anger flared when a hand popped the button on his smart trousers and forced its way into his boxers to paw at him. He yelled in fury and tried to dig his thumbs into Rowle’s eyes, only to be head butted for his efforts and then punched in the mouth.

He tasted blood and it infuriated him as Rowle tried to pull his trousers and boxers off of him, yanking and tearing at the fabric like a man possessed. He was completely committed to raping him, here on the bathroom floor of his own home.

Harry plunged his hand into his inner robe pocket, clenched his hand around his wand and he drew it out with a sharp slashing movement. He didn’t even think, his icy anger took over and before he knew what had happened Rowle was gone from between his legs and he was screaming blue murder some four feet away from him, next to the bathtub.

Panting hard and coming down from the adrenaline high, Harry scrambled to his feet and looked around, Rowle was holding an obviously broken arm (he could see the bone jutting out through the sleeve of his robe) and Harry sneered at him, his mind clouded over with utter resentment.

 

“Reducto!” He shouted without even thinking about it or the consequences of his loss of control and he watched impassively as his spell, aimed right between Rowle’s legs, hit his left leg instead as Rowle had moved, wriggling around like a worm impaled on a hook.

 

The result was catastrophic and it rained blood in the bathroom as Harry’s spell blew Rowle’s leg clean off, the severed limb all but exploding from the force of the spell and spinning off into a corner, sending blood in every direction. The stump that Rowle was left with was spurting blood at an alarming rate, creating a puddle of it very quickly on the tiled floor that was spreading with every single second.

Rowle’s screams hit a higher, more animalistic pitch, a sound that Harry had never heard before, and Harry took a breath, finally realising exactly what he’d done in his anger as he’d shouted out the first spell that had jumped into his head, he realised then that maybe it would be better if he let Lucius handle this from here.

He walked out of the bathroom quickly and went to look into the private room where he’d taken the Veritaserum test, hoping that Lucius was still there. He wasn’t. The room was empty.

 

“Pimsey!” He called out.

 

“Yes, what can Pimsey be do…?”

 

“Get Lucius here, now. Immediately, with no delay.” He ordered as he licked his lips nervously and Pimsey almost fell over herself to do as he’d asked.

 

He only had to wait a few minutes before Lucius, escorted by the three Lestranges and a huge, fearsome looking man that Harry had never seen before, stormed into the private room with a cowering, but determined, Pimsey.

 

“What happened to you?” Rabastan demanded as he immediately came to hold him, but his hands wavered and sort of hovered over his body as he didn’t know if he was hurt or not or if touching him would make everything worse.

 

“You only went to the bathroom!” Lucius said, completely appalled at his blood covered form.

 

Harry stared at the unknown man, biting his bleeding, bottom lip.

 

“This is Fenrir Greyback, he’s a family friend.” Lucius told him shortly, letting him know that anything he had to say, he could say it. This Greyback was obviously another Death Eater.

 

“Rowle attacked me in the bathroom.” Harry said shortly and to the point.

 

He had the pleasure of seeing the anger flare in Rabastan’s eyes, which was mirrored in Rodolphus’.

 

“I suppose I didn’t teach him enough of a lesson last week.” Rodolphus snarled, his large hands curling into fists, the knuckles cracking menacingly at the move.

 

“Where is he now?” Lucius demanded.

 

“I…well you see, he took me by surprise and when he knocked me to the floor, well, he tried to rape me.”

 

“What?!”

 

Harry closed his eyes at the volume of at least three men shouting.

 

“He said that Rabastan wouldn’t want me if I was defiled and pregnant with his child, so he tried to rape me.”

 

“Then he doesn’t know me very well.” Rabastan growled harshly. “I wouldn’t break our contract because he’d done that to you, I’d have killed _him_ instead.”

 

“He said that if you did still want me afterwards, then he’d dispose of you, leaving himself as my only suitor as the Father of the baby he’d given me.”

 

“I wouldn’t betroth you to a man who’d murdered your love and had raped you. Pregnant or not.” Lucius insisted firmly, his grey eyes glinting like polished steel.

 

“I’m not so easily killed.” Rabastan snarled. “Did he hurt you, Harry?”

 

“He…not really, just a little. I was more scared than hurt, then I got angry. He’s a lot bigger than I am, so I couldn’t stop him physically.”

 

“He actually started to rape you?” Xerxes demanded fiercely, making a violent hand gesture.

 

Rabastan gently tugged on his robes, opening them to show that they had no fastenings left, that they were torn and his trousers were ripped open, misshapen and missing a button.

 

“Did he touch you?” Rabastan asked dangerously.

 

“Yes, he did manage to fondle me, but that’s not what I need help with.”

 

“I’m going to kill him.” Rodolphus declared seriously.

 

“Ah, well…I may have already done so.” He admitted with a grimace.

 

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked, everyone, even the unknown Fenrir Greyback, looked at him interestedly then.

 

“He was threatening to kill Rabastan and he was trying to rape me!” Harry told them angrily. “Do you really think I’d just lie there and bloody let him?! I couldn’t fight him off physically, but I am a wizard still.”

 

“What did you do?” Rodolphus asked curiously.

 

Harry licked his lips. “Well, I did say the reductor curse was one of my favourites…” He grimaced and closed his eyes. “I…I may have blown off his left leg.”

 

Whatever he was expecting, it was not raucous laughter. He blinked open his eyes to see Rodolphus completely beside himself with mirth, almost bent double with his uncontrollable laughter.

 

“Are you hurt?” Lucius asked him calmly. “You were vague when Rabastan asked you.”

 

“Not really, he head butted me and punched my mouth, he also tried to strangle me, but all this blood is actually his from when I blew his leg off. The blood went everywhere, he was bleeding a lot when I left, there was a puddle under the stump where his leg used to be and it was getting bigger and bigger as I watched. I also broke his arm, I could see the bone poking through the sleeve of his robe.”

 

Rodolphus started laughing harder and he stepped forward to pet his head, ruffling his hair.

 

“I will go and clean up the mess in the bathroom, then.” Lucius sighed.

 

“I’ll come with you.” Xerxes insisted.

 

“I’ll get rid of the body.” The man, Fenrir, insisted firmly with a gleam in his eyes that Harry didn’t like. It made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up and his skin prickled with goose bumps.

 

“You will keep your cannibalistic tendencies out of my home.” Lucius told him sternly.

 

Harry’s stomach knotted and his gorge rose at hearing that.

 

“He was alive and screaming when I left the room!” He insisted in a squeak.

 

“He won’t be when I’m done with him.” Greyback grinned, showing off his pointed teeth.

 

Harry’s eyes widened before he could stop them and he instinctively sought out Rabastan for protection. He sidled closer and pressed against his betrothed, gripping that large hand tightly.

 

“Go and finish off Rowle before I beat you too it.” Rodolphus told the frightening man.

 

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he knew it was Rodolphus’ because both of Rabastan’ hands were around his chest, holding him tightly.

 

“Ignore him, he likes frightening people.” Rodolphus told him kindly and Harry wondered if he was trying to make amends for forcing him into that Veritaserum test or if he liked him more because he’d blown off Rowle’s leg and broken his arm. “I’m going to go and see what Rowle looks like.” He said with a demented grin and Harry thought then that it was the latter.

 

Rabastan waved his wand over Harry and the blood peeled off of him and another spell had the pain in his mouth and head vanishing as his split lip was healed, along with the unnoticed cut he’d had at his hairline from hitting the mirror.

 

“I can’t do anything for your throat, it needs to come out into a bruise and then have a bruise salve applied and there’s no fixing this robe. Let us go and get you changed.”

 

“I only have one robe left and it’s supposed to be for the Wizengamot party. Can’t I just go and stay up in my room and not come out?”

 

“No, we have to alleviate you of blame by giving you a room full of alibis while Fenrir eats what’s left of Rowle. I’ll buy you a new set of dress robes as a gift.”

 

Harry grimaced as he thought of Fenrir eating Rowle alive. It made him feel queasy and faintly light headed.

 

“Do you think we need a chaperone?” Harry asked as Rabastan peered out of the doorway and then pulled him out and down the corridor to the stairs.

 

“No, dealing with Rowle is more important and I don’t want to jump you after what that scum has just done to you.” Rabastan said gently. “I want to clean you up, get you changed so I can’t see what that filth did to you and then I am not going to let you out of my sight.”

 

Harry smiled and snuggled in tightly to the man who was doing his all to make him feel better after what had happened to him only minutes before.

They reached his bed suite quickly and without incident and Harry went into his bedroom, pulling Rabastan with him.

 

“I’ve never been in your bedroom before.”

 

“And so you shouldn’t have!” Harry teased him.

 

Rabastan laughed and took a seat on his bed as Harry went into his walk-in wardrobe and stripped off his ruined robes, taking out his best green robes.

 

“If anyone asks I’ll say I had a slight accident with a glass of water.” Harry said as he brought the robes out. “I’m not poor enough to have the need to repair mere dress robes! I can just buy new ones, how dare you suggest otherwise.” He sniffed in an imitation of Draco that sent Rabastan into peals of deep, rumbling laughter.

 

Harry chuckled and took the robes off of the hanger, but before he could put them on, Rabastan reached out and pulled him between his legs, his large hands holding the dip of Harry’s waist before he kissed him full on the mouth.

It was Harry who took things further and he climbed onto the bed and straddled Rabastan’s lap, their kiss deepening as Harry opened his mouth to allow Rabastan entry.

They had nothing to distract them, nothing to interrupt them and neither of them had the will to stop as their passionate kiss intensified. It was Rabastan who found the will to stop first, when his hand accidentally brushed against the damaged trousers with their missing button.

He broke apart from Harry, panting heavily and lust clouding his mind. Harry tried to kiss him again, before giving up and nibbling his neck instead. Rabastan groaned in pleasure, before he pulled back and separated them firmly.

 

“If we don’t stop now then it’ll be too late.” He groaned. “I don’t want to hurt you, I love you.”

 

“I love you too, that’s why I don’t care what Rowle did. I can look after myself, I’m not some weak, little boy who will curl up and wait for rescue. I can and I will defend myself and what he did means nothing, absolutely nothing to me. You are not him, not one little bit and the biggest difference of all is that I love you, not him. So this…” Harry indicated the both of them. “Is everything to me, everything I want and dream about. What he did was vile and wrong and he got what he deserved because of it.”

 

“Merlin, you’re amazing.” Rabastan grinned. “Now get dressed and let’s go before we’re caught and the both of us get spanked for our behaviour.”

 

Harry roared with laughter and he nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Okay. Alright, I think we managed to push our luck enough for one day, but tomorrow is a new day and I’ll expect more kisses.”

 

“I wouldn’t dare deny you.” Rabastan swore, watching lustily as Harry covered his tight black shirt and trousers with the stunning dark green dress robes that perfectly matched the eyes that he adored.

 

“Do I have blood on me still?” Harry asked worriedly as he went to his mirror to check his face.  

 

“No.” Rabastan answered, standing up and walking over to Harry to wrap his arms around him. “You’re just insanely beautiful and I can’t tear my eyes away from you.”

 

Harry was mortified to realise that his cheeks had pinked at hearing that and Rabastan smirked at him as he saw the added colour.

 

“I adore you.” Rabastan insisted as he hugged Harry tightly. “Now come, before I make use of that bed and ravish you completely.”

 

“I wouldn’t complain.” Harry said with a grin.

 

“Everyone else would, though.” Rabastan told him as he led them out into Harry’s sitting room and then out into the corridor. “I’d never hear the end of how I’d taken advantage of you after you’d only just been attacked. Your Mother in particular would skin me alive.”

 

Harry laughed at that and he reached out to lace his fingers with Rabastan’s, holding tightly and just relishing being close to this man whom he loved.

They walked right by the bathroom door and Rabastan pulled him along, right past it without stopping and led him straight back into the ballroom.

 

“May I have this dance?” Rabastan asked him and Harry laughed.

 

“I’m a terrible dancer, just so you know. It’ll be entirely likely that you’ll come to regret the decision of asking me to dance. It’s not too late to back out, I will understand completely, I’m a hazard.”

 

“What are a few bruised toes?” Rabastan said with a wide grin. “I want to dance with you.”

 

Harry sighed. “Fine, but don’t complain to me later, after I’ve crushed all of your toes numerous times.”

 

Rabastan gave him a short bow and held out his hand formally and Harry chuckled, placing his hand in Rabastan’s and letting him lead him into a free space on the dance floor. The classical background music was just loud enough for couples to dance to if they so wished, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the numerous conversations taking place all around the ballroom. Lucius and Narcissa had argued on and off for three whole days about the perfect, acceptable level that the music should be played at for the evening. Harry had decided then and there that he was never going to be hosting a party of his own. Ever.

Rabastan led the dance, naturally, and Harry followed his lead as best as he could. It turned out to be less of a chore and much more enjoyable than Harry had initially imagined as Rabastan kept him laughing throughout their dances and he chuckled madly every time Harry accidentally trod on one of his feet and he even caught him without fail every time he stumbled with a misstep or tripped over one of Rabastan’s feet.

 

“I told you I was terrible.” He groaned.

 

“I don’t mind.” Rabastan said with a smile. “I find you rather endearing actually.”

 

“Can we please go and get a drink.”

 

Still laughing, Rabastan agreed and they finished their last dance and then left their little space on the dance floor to make their way to the drinks table. Harry happily grabbed two glasses and filled them with iced water from a jug and he handed one of the glasses to Rabastan before taking a deep drink from his own.

 

“Why have you changed robes?”

 

Harry almost spluttered in shock as Draco hissed from right behind him, almost in his ear.

 

“Not here!” Harry hissed back before saying loudly, for the sake of the several witches and wizards who were close by and listening in. “I had an accident with some water earlier.”

 

“You’re lying.” Draco insisted in a whisper.

 

“Shut up! Later, Draco. Later!” Harry ground out quietly through clenched teeth.    

 

“Why do you hide things from me?” Draco demanded.

 

“I’m not hiding things from you, but it’s not for just anyone to overhear either!”

 

“Enough.” Rabastan chastised them both. “After the ball has ended, then will be the time to converse about such matters, until then you will be silent and mention nothing of Harry’s wardrobe change.”

 

“Is it bad?” Draco asked under his breath.

 

“Very.” Harry answered. “Now if anyone asks, I spilt water over myself and I changed robes because I can afford to discard dress robes so casually.”

 

“You will tell me what happened tonight, after the party.”

 

Harry nodded. “I will. Just keep quiet until then. It’s serious.”

 

“Hush now.” Rabastan coached them both. “You never know who has cast an enhancement charm on their own ears and are listening in to conversations that the participants believe are private.”

 

Harry nodded and he touched Draco’s elbow and squeezed, before he let go and turned back to Rabastan. A good look around the ballroom showed that Rodolphus, Xerxes, Lucius and the frightening man, Fenrir Greyback, were still missing.

 

“Harry, dear, where is your Father?”

 

Harry smiled at Narcissa and he embraced her, placing a kiss to her cheek to disguise his whispers.

 

“There was a bit of trouble earlier, they’re in the front bathroom.”

 

“Would this trouble have anything to do with these splendid robes that you weren’t wearing an hour ago?”

 

Harry nodded grimly. “It would.”

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

Harry smiled as his gut clenched pleasantly at the blatant concern shown to him. He was addicted to it already, he would never have enough of it. “I was, but Rabastan healed me up, though I may have bruises around my neck tomorrow.”

 

“Someone tried to throttle you.” She gasped, her clear blue eyes widening as her small hands rose to his shoulders just to either side of his neck and her long, slim fingers reached up to touch his jaw and chin so she could tilt it to get a better look at his throat without touching it or causing him undue pain.

 

“It’s not too bad.” Harry exclaimed.

 

“Nonetheless I will have Pimsey go to Severus to get a bruise salve from him. You will apply it tonight to try and head off the bruising.”

 

“Yes, Mother.” He took joy in saying. He couldn’t even be put out that she was fussing over something as small as a bruise because he adored this sort of motherly attention far too much.

 

She kissed his forehead and Harry couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

 

“I’m going to go and see what’s taking them so long.” Rabastan said, bowing to Narcissa and giving him a short peck to the lips.

 

Harry watched him go with a smile and he sighed.

 

“Can I get you a drink, Mother?” He asked Narcissa politely.

 

“A small white wine, please darling.”

 

Harry grinned and went to find a white wine and some juice for himself. Now that Rabastan had excused himself, he could sneak a glass of juice.

 

“Hello again.”

 

Harry chuckled and he turned to face Marcus Flint, who looked exceedingly good in a dark, almost black, set of blue dress robes.

 

“Hi, Marcus. How are you?” He asked.

 

“I’ve been trying to find someone to be my betrothed.” He sighed. “It’s been difficult and has become more of a chore.”

 

Harry looked at Marcus consideringly.

 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have killed a guy and terrified your previous fiancée witless.” He suggested and he got a dark grin back.

 

“Perhaps she shouldn’t have spread her legs for one of my business associates in my own home while I was at work earning gold for her to spend.” Marcus answered. “Anyway, I have no lack of proposals, I would assume that some are afraid of coming near me, the rest see that I have my own manor and a very, very large salary and it’s I who don’t like them.”

 

“You’re hopeless.” Harry sighed with a laugh.

 

“There has been one who I like, she just isn’t very feminine. Her Mother died when she was really young and her Father didn’t know what to do with a daughter and he adored her so much that he never denied her anything, not even when she refused to wear a dress for parties or learn womanly etiquette. She plays Quidditch, doesn’t really like gowns and jewellery and she looked disgusted when I gave her flowers at our first meeting.”

 

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Harry demanded. “If you like her, what the hell does it matter what anyone else thinks? Stop letting others dictate what you do, Marcus. If she doesn’t like flowers or jewellery, don’t bloody buy her any and find out what she does like and buy her those instead.”

 

Marcus grinned at him and touched his shoulder. “Perhaps I should.”

 

“You definitely should!”

 

“You are going to be a wonderful friend.”

 

“We’re friends now?” Harry asked curiously.

 

“I’m not letting you go now.” Marcus insisted with a wide grin. “Especially not if I’m going to tutor you in Runes. You do still want tutoring, don’t you?”

 

“Absolutely!” Harry said excitedly, almost biting Marcus’ hand off with the repeated offer of tutoring.

 

“We’ll work around your school schedule. I can get special permission to come and see you at weekends at the castle. It’ll be nostalgic to go back, I’ll enjoy it.”

 

“Won’t that interfere with your work?” Harry asked worriedly.

 

Marcus chuckled. “No. You don’t seem to understand what I do, Harry. I’m a specialist consultant, I tell my employers when I’m working, not the other way around.”

 

Harry laughed. “Oh, that would be brilliant.”

 

“It is, so if you work hard, you can get to the point where you can do the same. So we’ll start when you’re back in Hogwarts and if you can spare an hour or two every Saturday, I’ll have you understanding and even enjoying Runes by Easter.”

 

Harry grinned and he reacted on impulse when he reached out and hugged Marcus around the waist.

 

“Thank you! I can’t wait! I’ll send you a letter with Hedwig to finalise everything! I need to go and tell Rabastan.”

 

“Are you two back on track now after the Christmas Eve party?”

 

Harry nodded and he had a gooey smile on his lips as he thought of Rabastan. “Yeah, actually it was the kiss you gave me that spurred him into action.”

 

“As I had planned.” Marcus told him with a smirk. “I heard that Rowle attacked you just after? I wish I’d stayed with you for a minute longer, I’d have broken more than his nose.”

 

Harry laughed nervously while thinking that he had broken more than Rowle’s nose all by himself.

 

“I was actually expecting that scum to be here tonight.” Marcus carried on, peering around the ballroom consideringly.

 

“He was here earlier. I had an… _altercation_ with him, so Father sent him away.”

 

Marcus snorted. “I knew that bastard couldn’t control himself. What sort of decent Pureblood can’t even control himself?”   

 

It happened suddenly, as a distinct big cat Patronus darted into the ballroom and an unfamiliar voice gave them a two word warning. “Ministry raid.” The voice was shouting, echoing throughout the entire manor house so that there was no possible hope of anyone not hearing it and Harry had no doubts that everyone from the ground floor to the attic had heard the warning. It still took him a few moments to process what he’d heard before the panic set in.

 

“Rabastan!” He cried out in complete fear and panic, but Marcus caught him around the waist and held him.

 

“Calm. Calm!” Marcus coached him. “This happens at least once a year. They probably picked this party because of your recent adoption to the Malfoys, we know how to handle these and Rabastan and Rodolphus will already be gone, I promise you. If you look suspicious and panicked, that is what will make it worse, so just calm down.”

 

Harry breathed and looked around as a few people were popped away by house elves, but everyone else acted as though they hadn’t even been warned as they laughed and joked and sipped on their glasses. It helped him to calm down and he held on tightly to Marcus.

Marcus grabbed at him, groping at his chest and he lifted his Lestrange pendant and Harry’s eyes widened. That would be a dead giveaway if a Ministry worker saw it, but Marcus drew just two runes on the back of it with his wand and the pendant shimmered and vanished. Harry groped for it himself and he could still feel it, but he couldn’t see it.

 

“I’ll wipe the runes away after these idiots leave, until then, would you like to dance?”

 

“As I warned Rabastan, I’m a hideous dancer and I _will_ stomp on your feet.”

 

“That’s okay, I’ll likely do the same to you.” Marcus told him with a deep laugh.

 

Harry laughed too and accepted the hand onto the dancefloor. He didn’t need to act shocked when, with a racket that could have woken the dead, tens of people in bright red robes flooded into the Malfoy ballroom. There were shrieks from women and shouts from men and Marcus held Harry as if protecting him as three Aurors converged on them and prodded them with wands, looking for enchantments or potions that would disguise their true faces.

 

“I found the Potter boy!” One shouted out over the din the commotion had created in the ballroom as the noise level dropped dramatically when the music was shut off.

 

Harry bristled. “Excuse me! I am Lord Potter-Black and you will address me as such!” He exclaimed in his best Wizengamot voice. “How dare you storm in here while we are hosting a New Year’s ball! What right do you have?”

 

“We have every right to investigate such a large gathering of dark affiliated witches and wizards!”

 

“On what grounds are you here?” Harry demanded. “I am on the Wizengamot, I know that you can’t just set up this…this _invasion_ without a legitimate, legal reason!”

 

“We are here on the suspicion that you are harbouring escapees of Azkaban here.”

 

“Oh yes, I’ve escaped from Azkaban, I fancy an hors d’oeuvre at a _public_ social party.” Harry sneered. “Well have a good look around, don’t forget to look under the serving tables, your escapees might be hiding under the tablecloths.”

 

Harry glared down the Aurors in front of him, ignoring that the ballroom had gone silent and that nearly all of the occupants were listening to him.

 

“We’re just doing our jobs!” A red faced man, who could have only been in his early twenties, insisted.

 

“Not particularly well, apparently.” Harry answered as quick as a snap. “Just because you lazy, imbecilic fools can’t find a trace of several degenerates, you actually come and raid a New Year’s party just to make it seem like you’re actually doing something. This is unacceptable! Just what does the Auror department think it is doing?!” He demanded furiously. “You are supposed to be the top law enforcers of our world, you are supposed to be the elite at tracking and hunting down these dangerous, convicted criminals and yet, here you are, terrorising innocent members of the public by raiding a mere party! What could possibly have crossed your minds to make you believe that this was ever a good idea? You do not look good, you do not look in control of the situation and you do not look like you’re doing something to hunt down these criminals, you look _stupid_! You all look lost and clueless, like you have no leads and are merely grasping at whatever straws first come to hand!”

 

Harry ignored the deathly silence of the room and what felt like Marcus suppressing furious laughter at his back.

 

“Is this who the members of magical society have to protect them?” Harry demanded when everything remained silent. “Idiots who crash a party searching for Azkaban escapees instead of actually tracing their whereabouts and hunting them down? You should be ashamed of yourselves! You who dare to call yourselves Aurors. You’re all pathetic. Who is in charge here? Which one of you actually came up with this ludicrous idea?”

 

“Harry, calm yourself.” A hand on his shoulder and Harry relaxed, easing down from the edge of his anger as Lucius took over. “I’m sure that the Aurors have legitimate information and intelligence to go on and aren’t just harassing us for the sake of it.” Lucius said silkily in such a way as to imply that that was exactly what they were doing. “It wouldn’t do to hamper their search of our home, I would like it known that were are fully compliant with such Ministry intrusions. You need to remember, Harry, that the Ministry have allowed several very dangerous criminals to escape into our community, criminals who need to be caught and placed back into Azkaban and if the Aurors believe that we are hiding these criminals under the floorboards, then they have every right to search our home to check for them, no matter how preposterous it seems.” 

 

Lucius waited for a few heartbeats and then rose a sculpted blond eyebrow. “Well then, get to it and search, we are in the middle of a party and we would like to get back to it before the night is over.” He said sternly. “We have to make up for this deeply embarrassing faux pas that you’ve inflicted upon myself and my family.”

 

The Aurors looked too embarrassed themselves to do anything, but the one in charge of the raid called out to them all and rallied them and they started searching, using spells and charms to search out any unsavoury objects or people. They searched everywhere and then searched again, but they found nothing and that only compounded their embarrassment and the pointlessness of their raid.

 

“If that was all.” Lucius drawled scathingly. “Perhaps now that you are _absolutely_ sure that there are none of the Ministry’s wanted criminals hiding behind the tapestries you could leave us in peace and I might be able to salvage the party that you decided to assail purely for the sake of seeming proactive in the search for your elusive criminals.”

 

“We’re sorry for the intrusion.” The head of the raid was forced to say. He avoided Lucius’ gaze and shuffled out, after his team of Aurors.

 

“I apologise deeply for this humiliating interruption to the festivities.” Lucius called out loudly, while the Aurors could still hear him, just to rub the salt in of course. “I and my family would be appreciative if you all forgot that this Ministry blunder has happened and you carried on enjoying yourselves as you were before they arrived.”

 

Chatter broke out and the music, which had been silenced by an Auror upon arrival, was set to play again.

 

“You did really well.” Lucius told him proudly. “I’m proud of how you held your nerve and didn’t panic.”

 

“I did panic.” Harry admitted. “Marcus was the one who stopped me from ruining everything. I was so worried about Basti!”

 

“They’re gone now, you don’t need to censor yourself.” Lucius assured him. “Thank you, Marcus for calming him down.”

 

Marcus bowed to Lucius. “Not at all, Lord Malfoy.”

 

Marcus took hold of Harry’s pendant and he waved his wand in an incredibly complicated manner and suddenly Marcus was holding the Lestrange crest again. Marcus dropped it and Harry picked it up to play with it.

 

“I need to see Rabastan.” He said quietly.

 

“Not yet. The Aurors will be waiting for anyone to Apparate or floo out of the house and they’ll lock onto them and follow them. You’ll lead them right to Rabastan and Rodolphus.”

 

Harry swallowed and nodded, fingering his pendant harder. “I just need to know that he’s okay.”

 

“He’s fine.” Xerxes strode over to inform him, pulling him into a tight hug. “He and Rodolphus were gone as soon as we heard the warning from a Ministry insider we use to warn us of these numerous Ministry raids. They’re safe, they’ll be fine. Now stop fretting.”

 

“I can’t help it. My heart is only just calming down.”

 

“You handled those Aurors spectacularly.” Xerxes grinned at him. “You really are coming into your own.”

 

“You never did get me that wine.”

 

Harry turned and pulled a face as he realised that he’d forgotten about Narcissa’s wine when he’d bumped into Marcus.

 

“Sorry.” He replied a little shamefacedly. “I got to talking with Marcus about him tutoring me, I couldn’t pass that up, it’s too good an opportunity.”

 

“I thank you for offering to tutor Harry.” Lucius again said to Marcus.

 

“It’s a pleasure. Sharing my love of Runes with anyone is a pleasure, especially if that person can stand to remain in the same room as me while I tutor them.”

 

“I’m sure I can handle you.” Harry sniffed. “I was handling you on the Quidditch pitch when I was eleven.”

 

Xerxes snorted and Narcissa laughed lightly. Marcus growled playfully at him.

 

“I was going to try to be lenient with you at first, now you’d better watch out.”

 

Harry laughed and nodded. “I understand and I will always try my best. I want to learn.”  

 

“Good boy.” Lucius praised him. “You make sure that you learn all that you can from Marcus.”

 

“I will! Now can I please go and see Rabastan? I wanted to see in the New Year with him.”

 

“You’re so sweet.” Narcissa told him with a smile.

 

“I’ll take you to the boys, if we Apparate around then those dullard Aurors won’t catch us.”

 

“I don’t want to put either of them at risk, but I do want to see him.”

 

Xerxes shared a look with Lucius and then laughed. “Come on, say goodbye to your parents and I’ll take you to Lestrange Manor.”

 

“Bye.” Harry said quickly. “Bye, Marcus, I’ll send you an owl soon.” He promised before he looked expectantly at Xerxes, who shook his head and laughed again.

 

Harry was pulled into a hug and he felt the awful, squeezing sensation of Apparation. Several more Apparation journeys and he felt queasy, but Xerxes stopped and he took the time to steady him, letting him have a moment to reorientate himself.

 

“Here we are, welcome to Lestrange manor. Remember that that idiot of a son of mine is here too.”

 

“He had better not have started in on Rabastan!” Harry growled protectively.

 

“Rodolphus wouldn’t have let him.” Xerxes told him surely.

 

Harry looked curiously at everything, this being his first time in Lestrange manor, and apart from the darker woods used it was pretty much a normal house, though he did notice that sometimes the walls didn’t meet up flush with one another and sometimes there were dips or odd crevices which piqued his interest and curiosity immensely.

There were slumbering portraits on the walls and Harry automatically quietened his steps, his head filled with vivid memories of Walburga Black, Sirius’ Mother, screaming the house down if anyone so much as sneezed in that main hallway that housed her horrid portrait.

Harry was led into a family sitting room and there was Rabastan and Rodolphus, perfectly safe and well, sat on a settee talking to one another. Harry all but leapt onto Rabastan.

 

“I’m so glad that you’re okay!” He said, hugging the life out of his poor betrothed.

 

He blinked as he found himself twirled around and he looked up to see Rabastan’s face. He’d been pulled around to sit in Rabastan’s lap again. They kissed, long and passionate until Xerxes pointedly cleared his throat and they were forced to break apart, though they were both grinning like loons.

 

“Raids like that are pathetic.” Rodolphus insisted as he petted Harry’s hair, as his head was very close to Rodolphus.  

 

“You should have heard this brilliant boy tear those Aurors a new one!” Xerxes laughed. “You’ll be sorry you missed it! You really are coming on so well, Harry.”

 

“After what he did to Rowle, what were you expecting?” Rodolphus demanded. There was a hint of pride in his voice that made Harry feel even more nauseated than the Apparating around had made him.

 

“I killed him then.”

 

“He would have died eventually. He was bleeding out rapidly and none of us cared enough to prevent it.” Rodolphus said unconcernedly. “He begged for us to help him. How beneath his status as a Lord.”

 

“What will happen to his Lordship now?” Harry asked curiously, trying to think of something other than Rowle’s death or the manner in which he’d died.

 

“That’s the best part. It’s going to go to his least liked Aunt’s son. His Father’s sister’s son whom he has never liked and never acknowledged. She’s married into the Bellini family of Italy. Her children are all Bellinis and now one of them, the younger boy, Giovanni, is going to become the new Lord Rowle. It’s hysterical.”

 

“I don’t think salt in the wound is a harsh enough description of how Rowle felt, dying knowing his Lordship was going to the branch of the family he hated.” Xerxes said.

 

“I think the biggest dose of salt came knowing that Greyback started eating him alive and while he was conscious.” Rodolphus grinned.

 

“What?!” Harry demanded, his face paling dramatically.

 

“It was nothing less than he deserved for attacking and trying to defile you.” Rabastan said quietly.

 

“He wanted to kill you off too.” Rodolphus added to his brother with a growl. “If Harry hadn’t done such a good job, I’d have taken great pleasure in hurting him before handing him over to Greyback to finish off. After all, Greyback is only happy when his peculiar cravings are sated.”

 

“Peculiar cravings?!” Harry demanded weakly. “He ate him alive!”

 

“He would have bled out before Fenrir got to the good parts.”

 

Harry heaved and at once Rabastan had him sat up and pressed against him tightly, petting his back and hair.

 

“Enough, Dolphus. He doesn’t need to hear any of this.” He said sternly.

 

“If you insist.”

 

“I do.” Rabastan said forcefully.

 

Harry kept his face buried in Rabastan’s neck, trying to keep his mind clear so he didn’t picture Rowle with a broken arm and a severed leg trying fruitlessly to get himself away from that fearsome man Greyback, who was intent on eating him alive.

He squeezed his eyes closed and buried in deeper, snuggling in as far as he could, trying to blot out the images in his mind with Rabastan. The smell and the feel of him, those arms around him, the knowledge that he was here with him.

 

“Are you okay?” Rabastan asked him, petting his back and pulling gently on his hair. He was getting much better at being able to control that too.

 

Harry nodded. “I don’t want to think about it. Rowle was a bastard, he attacked me, tried to rape me and he threatened to kill you if you still accepted me after he’d finished and kept my baby as your own, but…but the thought of him being eaten alive by that…that, whatever the hell Greyback was!”

 

“He’s a werewolf.”

 

Harry snorted. “That doesn’t give him the excuse to act like that! What is wrong with the man?!”

 

“He plays up his werewolf attributes to terrify others. As a result he works incredibly well as a scare tactic and a deterrent. He’s invaluable to us.” Xerxes explained. “One mention of his name in a conversation would have people rushing to do as you want them to do or stop them from doing something that you don’t want them to do.”

 

Harry turned and considered that for a moment. He could definitely see how just the mere mention of his name would strike fear into people, especially if they knew what he was like and what he was capable of, but enough to have them do what you want? He filed that little piece of information away for a later date, Lucius had said that he was a family friend and Greyback knew the Lestranges too, his future family.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You still look pale.” Rabastan said concernedly.

 

Harry nodded. “I’m okay. I just wanted to be with you to see in the New Year.”

 

Rodolphus groaned and flicked the back of his head, making Rabastan growl at his brother.

 

“What? That’s so sickening I want to vomit. Why don’t you just get married now and save the rest of us the revolting shows of affection. Once you can fuck one another freely you can keep your disturbing sentiments confined to your bed chambers.”

 

“That’s never going to happen.” Harry said firmly. “I am always going to want to touch and kiss Rabastan, in our bedroom and out of it. Get used to it, Rodolphus or just don’t fucking look!”

 

“You watch your language, your Father would have my hide if he heard you.” Xerxes chastised.

 

Harry huffed and accepted the chastisement and moved on, turning back to Rabastan and shifting off of his lap before his weight could become too much for his legs and he cuddled into his side instead.

The conversation was light and they stayed well away from the topic of Rowle and Greyback, for which Harry was thankful for as he sunk into the settee and waited for midnight. He almost obsessively watched the clock as it started to get closer to the New Year, though he answered questions that were asked of him and he contributed to the conversation without being prompted as well.

At five to midnight he turned to Rabastan and held his hands, waiting. Rabastan chuckled and mirrored him, before bending forward to peck at his lips. Rodolphus scoffed loudly and pointedly looked away when Harry turned to glare at him.

 

“Something to say?” Harry asked coldly.

 

“No.” Rodolphus grunted.

 

“Good, keep it that way. I’m excited to be sharing my first New Year together with Rabastan, the man that I love, what’s wrong with that?”

 

“Nothing.” Rabastan told him. “Ignore him.”

 

Harry turned back to Rabastan and when Xerxes announced that it was exactly midnight Harry kissed Rabastan.

 

“Happy New Year, boys.” Xerxes said happily.

 

“Happy New Year, Grandfather.” Rodolphus answered.

 

Rabastan broke away from him to say the same, before turning back to him.

 

“Happy New Year, love.”

 

Harry grinned. “Happy New Year.”

 

“The start of a new year, the start of a new journey.” Xerxes said. “This year we welcome Harry into the Lestrange home and our family. May you boys be happy and have a fulfilling life together.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry said with a grin. “I can’t wait to graduate now, I have another year to go, but hopefully it goes quickly now, so that I can start my life properly with Rabastan.”

 

“I can’t wait either.” Rabastan whispered in his ear and Harry chuckled. “For the most part, I can’t wait until I can see you every day, talk to you every day and hold you in my arms every night.”

 

Harry blushed at that last and buried himself in Rabastan’s chest with a groan. “You had to add that last one.” He moaned.

 

“I can’t wait.” Rabastan breathed into his ear. “I’d hold you close to me through the night, place my face into the back of your head and sleep with your scent wrapped around me, as thoroughly as my body will be wrapped around yours.”

 

Harry went a bright red and his breathing picked up slightly with arousal.

 

“Please.” He whispered. “I want that too.”

 

Rabastan smirked at him and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly. Harry ignored when the one arm jerked and tensed against him, he was too happy to care as he used both hands to cup Rabastan’s chin and kissed him lingeringly.

 

“I have asked your Father for his permission to take you out tomorrow evening, well, later today actually and he has agreed. Now it’s up to you, do you want to come and have a meal with me?”

 

“How can we?” Harry asked. “Won’t you be spotted?”

 

Rabastan grinned. “I’ve set it all up, you don’t need to worry about such things, I promise.”

 

Harry bit his lip nervously, before he nodded. “Okay, but only if it doesn’t put you at risk.”

 

“I like you more and more.” Rodolphus said from behind him. “I wouldn’t let Rabastan risk his freedom for you, don’t fear.”

 

Harry actually smiled at that. “Thank you. I wouldn’t want him to risk himself for me, so I’m glad he has you to curb him and look after him when he refuses to do so himself.”

 

Harry felt a hand in his hair, yet again, as Rodolphus petted him with what he was rapidly coming to realise was Rodolphus’ way of showing him affection. His smile widened.

 

“Lucius expects you back at your home.” Xerxes told him. “He will most definitely not allow you to stay here tonight. He’s too suspicious and too protective of you, especially after you were attacked this evening.”

 

Harry sighed and he cuddled into Rabastan and kissed him.

 

“Thank you for coming to see the New Year in with me. I’m sorry the Ministry ruined our first New Year together.”

 

“They didn’t.” Harry said with a smile.

 

“Alright, wrap it up before I have to forcibly separate you both.”

 

Harry sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

“Definitely. I want to take you out for our New Year’s meal.”

 

Harry grinned. “Okay, I can wait until tomorrow, but be careful.”

 

Harry kissed Rabastan one last time and then allowed Xerxes to grab him and Apparate him around a bit, not as often as the journey to the Lestrange manor, before they stopped just inside the Malfoy manor. Xerxes steered him right into the family parlour and there was Lucius, sat up waiting for him like an overprotective Father waiting to see if his child came home safe.

 

“No problems I hope.” He said, standing up as soon as he saw them and he came to place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and Lucius looked him over. It gave Harry that warm, pleasant feeling that he was addicted to. The one that made him feel loved, cared for, that made him feel like he was actually part of a family.

 

“None at all. Rhadamanthus never even knew that he was there. We stayed in the front room the entire time, though as you knew, Basti invited Harry to dine with him tomorrow evening and Harry has accepted.”

 

“I expect the rules to be followed to the letter.” Lucius insisted sternly. “Harry, you will go with Rabastan, dine with him, and then you will come home. You will not be alone with him for any other reason, do you understand me?”

 

“Yes, Father.” Harry replied promptly. “I understand fully and I will not disobey you.”

 

“Good boy, now go and get changed for bed. I believe Draco is waiting in your room to ambush you, do not stay up too late or you’ll be overly tired for your dinner tomorrow evening.”

 

Harry nodded firmly. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, Harry.” Xerxes told him, touching his back for a moment as Harry passed him on his way out of the door.

 

It was already gone midnight and Harry was tired from the events of that day, but he had promised to tell Draco everything that had happened and exactly why he’d changed his dress robes an hour into the party. It was too much to ask for that Draco would have accepted his general answer of spilling water on himself. He sighed, he didn’t much relish the thought of being grilled for details by Draco, but he supposed he could share such a thing with his brother, adopted or not.

He found Draco sat unhappily in his sitting room, waiting impatiently, and grumpily, for him to return.

 

“There you are!” He said as soon as Harry walked through the door. “Tell me why you changed your robes.”

 

Harry sighed and he rubbed his head. “Give me a minute to change into something more comfortable.”

 

“I’ve been waiting all night!”

 

“It was a very distressing moment for me, Draco, let me get comfortable first.” Harry insisted as he walked right through his sitting room and into his bedroom. He shucked his dress robes and trousers right away before putting his wand and his gold cufflinks on his bedside table before stripping off his shirt. He found his most comfortable and warm, favourite pair of fleece pyjamas and he all but sunk into them.

 

He took a breath and went back into his sitting room and sat next to Draco.

 

“Well then?” Draco pressed when he remained silent.

 

“I really started when Rodolphus demanded that I take a Veritaserum test to prove that I hadn’t been intimate with anyone.” Harry started, easing himself into the memories of earlier that night.

 

“You passed right?”

 

Harry snorted harshly. “Of course I did. I haven’t done anything with anyone and I proved that tonight. Rodolphus was forced to apologise, but the potion had left my mouth dry and my face all numb and rubbery, so I went to the bathroom to swill my mouth out and to splash some water onto my face. I didn’t see the need to lock the door, so when I looked up, I was taken by surprise when my head was forced into the mirror.”

 

“Rodolphus?!” Draco gasped in horror.

 

“Rowle.” Harry growled. “He attacked me, tried to strangle me, which is where these bruises came from.” He said, showing Draco the marks he was sure were forming around his neck from the tightness he could feel in the skin. “They’re going to be much worse tomorrow and then he….”

 

“He what?” Draco asked quietly as Harry stopped and remained silent, drawing a blank over the words.

 

“He tried to rape me, Draco.” He said blankly, trying to cut his memories and emotions off from the words he’d spoken.

 

“What?!” The blond exploded. “Did he mange to…to…you know?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No, he ripped my blue robes and tore all of the fastenings off of it and he did…he did manage…he forced his hand into my boxers to fondle me.” He forced out in one breath.

 

“What happened? How did you get away? Did Rabastan find you? Or Father?”

 

“No. I always take my wand everywhere, so I ripped it out and blasted him away from me. I broke his arm badly.”

 

“Good!” Draco replied viciously.

 

“That’s not all I did. I was so angry, so humiliated that he’d managed to do that to me that I didn’t even think before saying the first spell that came into my head. The Reductor curse. I blew his left leg off, Draco.”

 

Draco went even paler than he usually was, which left him looking sickly. “It’s only intended for use on inanimate objects, it shouldn’t be powerful enough to sever living limbs. Are you saying that your Reductor curse was powerful enough to blast off a human leg with that much muscle and bulk on it?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“What happened to Rowle?”

 

Harry sucked on his bottom lip and debated on what to tell Draco. He decided on a partial truth as his brother already looked like he was going to be sick.

 

“He bled out. I was aiming for his lap, but he moved at the last moment and the sever was very high up his leg, near his hip. I hit the main artery in the thigh. Father cleaned it up, along with Xerxes. Rabastan took me back into the ballroom to give me a room full of alibis, but Rowle had already ruined my robes, so I needed to change them.”

 

“No wonder you didn’t want anyone to know that you were wearing different robes. I hushed up Astoria too. I told her that you’d had an accident with a trifle.”

 

Harry laughed. “I do like trifle.”

 

“You’re okay though, aren’t you?” Draco asked, looking at him hard.

 

Harry nodded. “I’m fine. I’ve got a bruise salve to put on my throat tonight and I’m not hurt and I can’t be afraid of anything because Rowle is dead. I’m going to be just fine. I can take care of myself, I’ve been doing it for a while now, though I have to admit that it is nice to rely on someone now and then, it feels nice to take the pressure off and give it to someone else for a little while.”

 

Harry smiled and then the subject changed and he asked how Draco and Astoria had been through the night and they made a bit of small talk about what ese had happened during the party and Draco had a good laugh over the memory of Harry’s handling of the Aurors and then Draco was gone and Harry could fall into his bed and just sleep.

He didn’t want to think, he didn’t really want to do anything at all, he just wanted to sleep and rest so that he could forget what had happened tonight. He did remember to plaster on the bruise salve though, that’s all he really needed when going on his first dinner date with Rabastan, an imprint of Rowle’s fingers wrapped around his neck. So he made sure to cover every inch of his throat and the back of his neck, just in case. Tomorrow he wanted to focus purely on Rabastan and nothing else.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve decided to focus on this fic for a little while, just to bulk it up a bit more and this chapter is definitely more impressive than the last, which was such a disappointment to me. We’ll see how long I can stay on this one, and how many chapters I can add to this fic before The Rise of the Drackens calls me back away.  
> I hope you lovelies have enjoyed reading this chapter! I drained myself dry to bring you this monster chapter, but it’s worth it, I love this chapter, it’s definitely one of my favourites. Until next time, lovelies,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	11. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
>  
> 
> Harry smiled and then the subject changed and he asked how Draco and Astoria had been through the night and they made a bit of small talk about what else had happened during the party and Draco had a good laugh over the memory of Harry’s handling of the Aurors and then Draco was gone and Harry could fall into his bed and just sleep.
> 
> He didn’t want to think, he didn’t really want to do anything at all, he just wanted to sleep and rest so that he could forget what had happened tonight. He did remember to plaster on the bruise salve though, that’s all he really needed when going on his first dinner date with Rabastan, an imprint of Rowle’s fingers wrapped around his neck. So he made sure to cover every inch of his throat and the back of his neck, just in case. Tomorrow he wanted to focus purely on Rabastan and nothing else.

 

Chapter Eleven – Promises

Plastering the bruise salve onto his throat the night before had not headed off as much of the bruising as Harry would have liked. He’d woken up late and showered, washing the dried, flaky paste away, to reveal the faint bluish-green bruises of Rowle’s finger imprints on the front of his neck, wrapping right around to the base of his skull, where eight large, dark bruises were located from where Rowle had dug the tips of his fingers into the back of his neck while his thumbs had dug into his windpipe.

He had been very badly bruised if keeping a salve on overnight hadn’t healed it completely and it only went to prove just how tightly that Rowle had been squeezing. Rowle had been aiming to kill him, of that he had no doubts. Harry was glad that he was dead.

He plastered his throat and neck with even more bruise paste and unhappily went down for breakfast. The bruise had better be gone before his dinner date with Rabastan or he was going to find some way to bring Rowle back from the dead just to kill him all over again. Slower this time, much slower, without the option of unconscious oblivion or a quick bleed out.

 

“You are still marred?” Narcissa asked as he joined them for breakfast.

 

She immediately stood up and came hurrying to him, she gently picked up his chin without touching the paste and got him to open his mouth so that she could check his throat for him.

 

“Your throat is sore on the inside. Pimsey!”

 

“Mistress called for Pimsey.” The House elf asked as she popped immediately into existence in the dining room.

 

“Get a potion for Harry’s throat from the store room. Come and sit down, Harry. Drink some tea, it’ll help.”

 

Harry was settled into a chair and given a freshly made cup of tea.

 

“Is there anything left of Rowle?” Harry asked as he took a sip of his tea and grimaced as his sore throat made itself known for the first time.

 

“This is hardly the place or the time for such conversations.” Narcissa chastised him, but Harry kept his eyes on Lucius.

 

His Father sighed. “No, I would imagine that there is very little left after last night, Harry. Why do you ask?”

 

“I was going to try and find something that could reanimate him so I can kill him all over again.”

 

Lucius sighed. “Let it go, Harry. He’s dead and he died in a painful, humiliating and horrific way. Let that be enough and bury your remaining feelings and grudges. It’s over now.”

 

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. He thanked Pimsey for handing him the potion vial and he sipped on it slowly, grimacing and gagging at the taste, but it had to pass slowly past his throat in order to sooth and heal it.

He groped for his cup of tea and gulped it down as soon as he was done with the potion, trying to wash away the thick, syrupy potion still clinging to his tongue and throat.

If he had any lingering grudges with Rowle, or any feelings to do with the vile man at all, then he’d transfer them into his plans for Rhadamanthus, who was admittedly going to be much harder to kill off and whose death would be much harder to hide as he was _very_ involved in the Ministry. He was an employee of the International Magical Cooperation Department, and in particular the International Magical Office of Law. Unlike Rowle, who only did his Lordship duties to the Ministry as he didn’t work and lived off of his ancestors’ wealth, Rhadamanthus would be missed as soon as he went missing because of how involved he was with the laws of other magical communities of other countries. He worked six days a week and would even work the seventh if it was needed of him and due to differing time zones, Rhadamanthus was on call throughout the night as well and he regularly went into work at strange, odd hours. If he suddenly went missing with no warning, his work colleagues and friends would immediately be alerted. It was just another obstacle in his plans that he had to fully consider and take into account before he could act to remove Rhadamanthus permanently from his and Rabastan’s lives.

He ate his breakfast in silence and when he was done. He just sat and waited for…something, anything. Without Rabastan to talk to and interact with, he found himself strangely bored and unoccupied.

He was tired too, he had not slept well last night, not only because of the discomfort of trying to sleep with a thick paste slavered over his neck and getting into his hair and all over his pillow and sheets, he’d also suffered from several nightmares and as a result his sleep had been broken.

The nightmares had all started normal enough, memories plaguing him from the attack, scenarios where he hadn’t had his wand on him and hadn’t been able to get Rowle off of him, where Rabastan hadn’t wanted him afterwards or had for whatever reason blamed him and the like, but they had changed to the one, persistent problem that was plaguing him. Rhadamanthus. His nightmares had changed to Rhadamanthus attacking him, to Rhadamanthus doing those vile things to him and then Rodolphus had been accusing him of being impure and Rabastan had been shouting at him that he’d slept with his Father and he should be disowned for the shame of it. He’d woken up in a cold sweat, panting for breath.

He needed to see Rabastan in order to push those nightmares away. He hadn’t personally killed Rowle, Greyback had by eating him, but there were no doubts that he had been the catalyst to Rowle’s untimely death by severing his leg so close to his groin. He had died by bleeding out, but if he hadn’t have bled out, then Greyback would have killed him by eating him. It was like they’d worked together to kill Rowle in a way.

 

“You look entirely unproductive.” Lucius told him.

 

“It’s the holidays.” Harry whined. “I’ve done all my homework, I’ve been observing the night skies for Astrology and I won’t see Rabastan until later. I have nothing I need to do.”

 

“Oh? Allow me to rectify that for you. Follow me.”

 

Harry groaned and hefted himself up and slouched after Lucius.

 

“Stand up straight or the hex aimed at you will hit your bottom.” Narcissa called out after him.

 

Harry scowled and straightened his back and shoulders, measuring his steps more so that he looked perfectly eloquent and graceful.

He was taken to Lucius’ study and, after being told to take a seat, he sat in the chair in front of his Father’s desk while Lucius perused the bookcase to his right.

 

“Ah, here we are. Read this.” Lucius told him, handing him the thick, ancient looking book before going around his desk to sit down in his own dragonhide chair. Lucius pulled his paperwork towards him and picked it up where he’d left off by dipping a quill into his inkpot and commencing a new paragraph on the parchment.

 

Knowing that arguing was pointless, and would likely lead to a punishment, Harry cracked open the book and started reading it. He couldn’t wait until later, when he could not only see Rabastan again, but have their first official date together. He was very much looking forward to it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Albus Dumbledore dismissed Severus with a wave of his hand and he sighed heavily, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them. Things were going from bad to worse and with the coming war, he was frightened of what it would mean for the Wizarding world as he knew it.

The Ministry were still resolutely denying Voldemort’s return and with Harry’s adoption to the Malfoy family and into a _respectable_ Pureblooded household, the wizarding public believed that Harry had ‘stabilised’ and that he was no longer deranged or delusional. It didn’t help in the slightest that Lucius Malfoy had released a statement in the Daily Prophet on his ‘son’s’ behalf claiming that Harry Potter had never told anyone the ‘lies’ about Voldemort’s return and that it had been a cheap ploy, by him, to discredit Harry Potter and to use his famous name to try and confuse and terrify more people. Lucius Malfoy had carried on to say that Harry couldn’t have said anything that he was claiming he had as he had been deserted into the Muggle world and had no access to anyone in the magical world in order to give a truthful statement. That he, Dumbledore, had been doing it for him and passing his own ‘poisonous’ and ‘dangerous’ lies off as Harry’s own.

Thanks to this newspaper interview his name was now mud as a lot of people now believed that he’d been using ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ an orphaned, underaged young boy, as a way to further his own agenda.

He was losing ground and he was being discredited by everyone around him and at every turn. There were even calls for his dismissal from Hogwarts as Headmaster and even his imprisonment on the charges of using a minor, and a famous name to boot, for his own political gain. Things were such a mess and he really needed to get back into Harry’s good graces.

The boy _knew_ that Voldemort had returned. He had seen his rebirth with his own eyes, had been one of the ingredients used in the ritual even and he had fought Voldemort in that graveyard, in the Ministry Atrium, the boy had even been _possessed_ by Voldemort. Harry _knew_ that Voldemort was back, he _knew_ what it meant. He just didn’t understand why Harry was suddenly claiming that it had all been a lie. Unless Harry had no knowledge of Lucius releasing that statement on his behalf. That would make much more sense than Harry claiming that Voldemort’s return was a lie and as he had checked the boy for any potions or enchantments personally, he knew that Harry wasn’t being outwardly influenced. He hadn’t found anything more than a few everyday potions, which even taken together couldn’t explain Harry’s behaviour and attitude change. The only thing he could think of was a very dark curse that was resistant to detection spells, he just didn’t know how to go about proving such a claim.

Severus was having no luck in finding out Voldemort’s future plans or attacks and even worse, Severus had no idea what Voldemort wanted to do with Harry. He was worried that it meant death for the young boy and if Harry was under a curse, then he would walk into the trap unknowingly and uncaringly, like a lamb led to the slaughter by the farmer who had cared for it. He couldn’t let this happen, he had to do something.

He needed to get Harry into his office under the guise of something else in order to find the curse or potion used upon him so that he could research a counter curse and break its hold over Harry. Only then could they have a hope, a ray of light, in this coming war. Without Harry, all was lost.

A solid knock on his office door had Albus calling out a cheery greeting, which slipped away as Remus Lupin entered his office. Remus, as well as a few others, knew of his concerns and his thoughts on the matter of Harry.

 

“Sir, have you had any word?” Remus asked him.

 

“I’m sorry, Remus. I haven’t. Harry hasn’t once sent anyone an owl and Hedwig has not been seen since he left for the holidays.”

 

Remus swallowed visibly and audibly.

 

“I’m so worried and if it is a curse or a potion like you believe, then he’s in danger. I can’t stand being here, doing nothing, while he might even now be being hurt or even killed.”

 

“I don’t believe that the Malfoy’s would kill Harry during the holidays, Remus. They’ll wait, build up the public’s trust in having them look after Harry and then, once they have that trust, that is when I believe they’ll harm Harry. It’s too dangerous for them to act now, they’ll want to wait for a time that they can do it and pass it off as a tragic accident so that they aren’t implicated.”

 

Remus looked more distressed at hearing that. “We’re running out of time then. The public are _happy_ that Harry is being looked after by a Pureblooded family. They’re happy that he’s showing more interest in the magical world. They’re _happy_ about this arrangement, Dumbledore! We need to do something to help him!”

 

“I have been trying, Remus, my boy. There is little I can do myself with Harry being so uncooperative. If I could just find a way to get him on his own and calm enough for a small amount of time, then perhaps I could find the curse or potion that is influencing him and break it, but until then, Harry is firmly under Lucius’ thumb and if the talk that Severus has heard is true, then he is going to be betrothed to a dark affiliated witch very soon.”

 

Remus’ eyes widened. “No, please don’t let that happen! Merlin, James, Lily and Sirius would be rolling in their graves if they knew that Harry was being married off like a raffle prize. We have to stop this!”

 

“There isn’t anything that I can do, Remus. Lucius Malfoy is Harry’s adoptive Father and his magical guardian and as such he has the right and the power to betroth Harry to whomever he pleases, though it’ll be up to Harry if he wishes to marry his betrothed afterwards. However if he’s being controlled by a curse or a potion, then it may not be his true desire. I suppose we can be thankful that Bellatrix Lestrange is already married.”

 

Remus was hyperventilating and he collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands between his knees to calm himself down.

 

“This can’t be happening.” He whimpered painfully. “We need to get him away from Malfoy. We can’t just do nothing.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do during the next school term. I will find this curse and I will break it, Remus. Perhaps if you came to visit him during the weekends too, remind him of his actual parents, and of Sirius too, of course. It would be easier if he had his friends around him as well, but alas, I believe that things there have gone too far to be brought back.”

 

Remus nodded. “I will talk to Ron and Hermione and see what they think, perhaps if they’re told that it’s a curse or a potion they’ll be more accepting and I will definitely come to visit him. Harry already has a family. They’re dead, but they loved him and he loved them, or at least I thought he did.”

 

“I’m sure that it is just the effects of the curse, Remus.”

 

“So you think it’s definitely a curse?”

 

“I’m not entirely sure, but it is more likely to be a curse than a potion.” Albus explained. “A potion’s effects will wear off and unless Draco Malfoy is the one dosing him while at the school, a curse is much more likely and will last until the caster either removes it, or dies.”

 

Remus nodded at the logic of that and he sat up straight again.

 

“This silence bothers me.” He admitted. “I sent him a gift and a card for Christmas and I haven’t heard anything back yet. I know Hagrid and Molly sent him a package as well, but they haven’t heard anything either. It’s unnerving.”

 

“We can take solace in the fact that we know that Lucius Malfoy cannot act currently.” Albus said solemnly. “We have a bit of time to plan and then we’ll need to prepare to act. I will call an Order meeting in a few days, before the new term starts, until then, try writing to Harry again and see where that gets you. If you hear anything from him, come straight to me.”

 

Remus nodded and took the order for the dismissal it was and he left the Headmaster’s office and went back to Hogsmeade to Apparate. He was so worried about Harry and the silence around him that he was having difficulty sleeping and controlling Moony. He was thankful that the next full moon wasn’t until the twenty-third of January as he was getting more and more stressed and antsy the longer he went without hearing from Harry and the last full moon, just a little over a week ago, had really taken it out of him, but he was incredibly worried that Harry hadn’t sent him a letter after Christmas had passed. This next full moon was not going to be a pleasant one, even with the Wolfsbane potion. He hoped that he heard from Harry before then, just to give himself a bit of peace of mind that he was at least still alive and unharmed.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Draco was insistent on helping him dress and get ready for his dinner date, of course. Harry had been ordered to bathe and then, as soon as he’d gotten out and dried off, Draco had been on him with potions and combs and instructions.

 

“Damn it, Draco! Just calm down.” Harry said in frustration as Draco darted off again to get something or other as Harry sat in a chair in just his boxer-briefs.

 

“This is a serious matter!” Draco told him sternly. “The first dinner date is very important and it’s a very important, intricate part of the betrothal contract. Do you know how many betrothals are broken on the night of the first dinner date?”

 

Harry was sure his expression personified bemusement. “Why?” He asked.

 

“Eating habits.” Draco told him.

 

“Eating habits?” Harry said with a chuckle.

 

Draco nodded seriously. “Eating habits and chosen conversation topics. If either are terrible, well, it’s a probable deal breaker.”

 

“I’ve already eaten meals with Rabastan and we’ve been betrothed for five months now, Draco. I think the dinner date should have been much earlier in the betrothal calendar if it’s to test eating habits and the ease of conversation.”

 

“It should have been at the end of your first month of being betrothed.” Draco nodded. “But that’s when we went back to Hogwarts and it’s difficult with Rabastan’s current status as a fugitive. It’s a little late, I grant you, but don’t become complacent. This is an important part of the betrothal contract and if your conversation fizzles out, then it could spell disaster for your betrothal and future marriage. It’ll also be a blockade on any new betrothals if it was you who was at fault for the breakdown of the contract.”

 

Harry let Draco poke and prod him as he had his hair messed with and his clothes laid out for him. At least the bruise had vanished after a full night and half a day of wearing the medicated salve. Unfortunately his throat was still a little sore when he swallowed, but he’d have to deal with that as best as he could.

 

“Will you stop pulling already?” Harry sighed. “I’ll be late to dinner if you don’t let me get dressed soon and Rabastan has already seen my hair when it isn’t controlled and styled with potions.”

 

“You have to look presentable.” Draco bit out. “I won’t let you walk off to your first date looking like a poor, unkempt ruffian.”

 

Harry had to bite his lips to keep from laughing at Draco. He sat back with a long suffering sigh and let Draco slather his hair in potions and hair care products before he was finally allowed to get himself dressed in the outfit that Draco had laid out for him. They were just plain robes, not dress robes, but they were still expensive and lavish and tailor made to fit his body like a glove.

 

“You look perfect.” Draco said factually, looking him over critically and brushing out the wrinkles of his robes as he stood up.

 

“Do I pass? Can I go and meet Rabastan now?”

 

“Go on, just try not to spill anything on yourself and remember, the salad fork is on the inside, closest to your plate and for Merlin’s sake do not use your dessert spoon for your soup.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I did that once! Once while I was learning why a table needed four knives and forks, three spoons, three glasses and a cup.”

 

“Just remember where everything is placed and keep the conversation flowing. Don’t speak or laugh with your mouth full either.”

 

“Excuse me! When have I ever done that?”

 

“It’s just a reminder.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes and they both walked off and left Harry’s bedroom. They went down to the living room and Narcissa took over where Draco had left off, brushing his robes down and fiddling with his collar and the tie around his neck that was tucked into the waistcoat that perfectly matched the colour of his robes.

 

“Are you ready?” Lucius asked him and Harry nodded happily, with a slight edge of nerves.

 

“Yeah, I’m really excited, but I’m still worried. We’re going out in public, what if someone sees him and recognises him? The Azkaban escapees were broadcast on the Muggle news too.”

 

“Stop fussing.” Narcissa told him, pulling him to her chest and pressing her lips to his forehead in a brief kiss. It brought a massive grin to Harry’s face. “Rabastan has planned it all out and you’re not going to the Muggle world, just stop stressing about it. All you need to do is enjoy yourself and behave, darling.”

 

Harry nodded and he took Lucius’ arm and allowed himself to be Apparated away. He opened his eyes and took in the beautiful restaurant they had arrived in. Lucius pulled him away from the round, carpeted space they had landed in, that had a beautifully carved wooden bannister that held a variety of potted plants and flowers around it, and went to the podium directly in front of them with an elderly gentleman wearing a smart set of black robes.

 

“Lord Malfoy. Lord Potter-Black.” The shrewd man greeted primly, politely and respectfully. “Right this way. The owner of this establishment has given strict instructions and I wish to assure you that they will be followed to the letter. Our patrons’ discretion is our highest priority here at The Garnet Swan.”

 

Harry was impressed as he was led through a cluster of intimately laid circular tables, every single one of them were set for two and were draped with the clichéd dark red tablecloths with red pillar candles. They were led up a set of wide, red carpeted stairs, away from the main floor and the view of all the other patrons, to a balcony that had only three, very wide spaced, doors set into the right side wall and the two of them followed as the maître d let them across the open corridor, which had no wall on the left side, just another beautifully carved wooden bannister covered in plants and flowers that looked out onto the floor below and all the other diners eating and talking in low voices at their little intimate tables.

They stopped at one door, the one right at the very end of the long balcony, and their maître d bowed to them formally and then left again. Lucius waited until he was halfway down the stairs again before he knocked on the door once and let them into the room.

Harry grinned as he walked in to see Rabastan waiting for him at a small, round table like the ones below them. Xerxes was sat at the other end of the room, in one of a cluster of four armchairs gathered around a coffee table and fireplace.

 

“Rabastan.” Harry greeted, his steps widening and quickening until he reached Rabastan, where he threw his arms around his betrothed and kissed him.

 

“Harry, you look wonderful.”

 

Rabastan indicated their table and Harry allowed Rabastan to help him sit. He turned to look at the group of armchairs, which were almost at the opposite end of the room, and he frowned at the distance.

 

“You’re here, dining with me. Ignore them, they’re just chaperones, they’re not a part of our dinner plans tonight.” Rabastan told him and Harry turned back and gave his full attention to Rabastan.

 

“How have you been? I’ve been so bored without you. Lucius had me reading all day waiting for tonight.”

 

Rabastan chuckled. “I admit, my day has been very boring too, but at least I’ve distracted myself with making these plans and finalising everything.”

 

“I’ve had Draco poking and prodding me all afternoon.” Harry grimaced. “I’m a fashion disaster. You do know that when we get married it’ll become your job to dress me, don’t you?”

 

The grin that Rabastan gave him was so naughty that Harry blushed.

 

“As long as I get to undress you every night.” Rabastan told him in a lusty whisper.

 

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Harry said with a smile and a covert wink.

 

Rabastan laughed and Harry relaxed, settling down. This wasn’t any worse than having dinner with Rabastan at Malfoy manor. It was exactly the same, only there were less people around them and they had the seclusion and the privacy to converse and interact like lovers were meant to.

They made small talk until a house elf came into the room with a large tray of food and drinks and it settled the plates and drinks down on their table with magic.

 

“Thank you.” Harry said politely to the elf, who squeaked in pleasure and left them alone.

 

“I wish you’d stop doing that.” Rabastan sighed.

 

“I’m not going to, so get used to it.” Harry said back sternly.

 

Rabastan wisely changed the subject.

 

“I hope you don’t mind that I ordered for you. I ordered when I arrived an hour ago to help set this room up, so that no one would see me. Our family know the owner of this restaurant and I was best friends with his son in school, so he was very happy to help set this up for us.”

 

Harry took that to mean that the owner of The Garnet Swan, and his son, were either Death Eaters or sympathisers, most likely Purebloods too. In fact they probably were Purebloods if the Lestranges were friends with them.

 

“I’m really not fussy with my food, as long as it doesn’t have eyes.” Harry said, which made Rabastan, who’d just taken a sip of water, laugh and choke on his drink.

 

“Not a fan of seafood?” He teased once he got his breath back.

 

“I’m not sure. I’ve tried a bit of cod, but outside of that, I’ve never had much seafood. So like the cheese at Christmas, I probably wouldn’t like it because I’ve never tried it before now and I’m set in my ways. But no eyes.”

 

Harry made sure to use his soup spoon for the first course and not his dessert spoon as he had done when Narcissa had been teaching him about table placements. At the time he’d thought that it was a waste of time, now, looking at the amount of silverware and bone china on the table in front of him, he was grateful.

After the light soup came a crisp, jewelled salad with a tangy dressing and then another course was brought out, a thick medium rare steak served with a baked potato and sautéed vegetables and though they were steadily eating, their conversation wasn’t awkward, uncomfortable or forced.

It was during that third course that Harry realised that this was not a struggle for him, that being here, eating and talking to Rabastan was not forced nor a chore. He was enjoying himself and he was loving every minute of being here.

 

“I really love you, you know.” He said softly during a natural lull in their conversation as they ate their food.

 

Rabastan looked up and he caught sight of the look being sent his way and he smiled, putting his fork down and reaching for Harry’s hand.

 

“I know. I’m working on truly accepting that when you say it. I just don’t see what you see when you look at me, clearly. But I adore you, Harry. I love you and I want to keep you, I want to marry you and start a family with you. I just don’t want you hating me in several years when you look at me and think that you could have had so much better than me.”

 

“There is no one better than you.” Harry insisted firmly. “I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together proving it to you, Rabastan, but you have been kind and accepting of me and that’s all I want from a marriage. I want love and respect and you give that to me. Why wouldn’t I stay with you when you’re offering me everything I’ve always wanted?”

 

“I was going to wait until after we’d finished eating, but I can’t wait any more. I love you too much to keep you waiting.”

 

“Waiting for what?” Harry asked, his heart going into his throat with fear at a possible break up.

 

Rabastan fumbled at something in his robe pocket and then he slid a square box over the table towards him. Harry’s fear morphed into something else and his heart started beating impossibly faster as his breath caught in his lungs.

 

“Is…is this what I think it is?” He asked softly.

 

“Open it and see.” Rabastan told him with a croak in his voice.

 

Harry looked up and he noticed that Rabastan’s hands were quivering with nerves and he put his betrothed out of his misery and opened the velvet box to show the plush satin insides and the beautiful ring nestled within.

 

“I’m in love with you, Harry. I adore everything about you. Will you do me the great honour of marrying me and becoming my Husband?” Rabastan asked as Harry stared at the ring in the box.

 

He looked up with tears in his eyes and he took hold of Rabastan’s quaking hands.

 

“Of course I will, Rabastan. Nothing would make me happier.”

 

Rabastan pulled the ring out of its satin bed and he took Harry’s left hand and slid the perfectly fitting ring onto his third finger.

Harry smiled and admired the ring on his finger. It fitted his finger perfectly and it was beautiful. So beautiful.

 

“It’s platinum, blue tungsten and diamond.” Rabastan told him. “I designed it myself and had it custom made for you.”

 

“Thank you so much. I love it. It was truly worth the wait.” Harry said with a massive grin.

 

He shifted and bent over the table to kiss Rabastan and he couldn’t stop at just one kiss, he was too happy and as one kiss became two and then several, he realised that he was _engaged_ to this man. He and Rabastan were not betrothed anymore, they were engaged, they were fiancés. He shifted again to make himself more stable in the chair and he moved to wrap his arms around Rabastan’s neck and their kiss became more passionate and they didn’t break apart.

 

“Please do remember that you have an audience.” Lucius drawled from across the room.

 

Harry broke the kiss to heave in several deep, much needed breaths.

 

“At the moment I don’t care who’s watching.” He declared before he pulled Rabastan’s head into another searing kiss.    

 

“Let the boys be, Lucius. They’re engaged now after all.”

 

Harry pulled back to grin at Rabastan and he went back to looking at and admiring his ring. The outer edges of the ring were shining platinum with an inside ring of a bright blue metal that Rabastan had called tungsten and it was studded with five diamonds around the band. Harry loved it. It was definitely masculine, but it didn’t take over his whole finger and it wasn’t too heavy. It was perfect.

 

“You’ve given this so much thought, Rabastan. I just love it.” He insisted happily as he tore his gaze away from the ring to kiss Rabastan again. “But more than that, I can’t believe we’re finally engaged. You could have given me a plastic ring or the end of a copper pipe and I would have been happy just to be engaged to you.”

 

“It had to be special. Like you.” Rabastan told him.

 

Harry grinned and clutched at Rabastan’s hands.

 

“With this ring, Harry, I promise to love you forever. I promise to care for you and love you and our future family. I adore the very ground that you walk on and I can’t wait until we’re married and we start having children. I love you.”

 

“I love you, Rabastan.” Harry said. “Are you sure we can’t marry this summer?”

 

“I’d love nothing more, but your Father is insistent on you being graduated first. A baby really wouldn’t fit in with your school plans or your exams and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not fit enough to look after a child just yet. Hopefully given another year and a half to regain my health and past strength with this diet and fitness program, I’ll be in a better position to look after you and a child. I’ll work very hard, I swear it. I’ll do everything I can to regain my health and fitness for you, for our future.”

 

“I don’t care if you never regain your old strength, Rabastan, as long as you’re healthy.” Harry said seriously. “I want you to be happy and healthy and I’ll still love you just as much.”

 

“I want to regain my strength for you.” Rabastan insisted. “What sort of Husband will I be if I can’t carry you up the stairs to our bed?”

 

Harry grinned naughtily. “There are always levitation charms.”

 

“What about the actual wedding night?” Rabastan asked.

 

Harry’s grin widened and he winked. “I have enough strength and youthful enthusiasm for the both of us.” He declared.

 

Rabastan’s look immediately went predatory and those beautiful blue eyes darkened with lust.

 

“I’ll hold you to that.” He replied huskily. “But I still promise to work as hard as I can to overcome my weakness.”

 

“Don’t push yourself too hard.” Harry told him.

 

“I know, I know. Now you sound like ‘Dolphus.” Rabastan laughed.

 

“You should listen to him more.” Harry said. “He’s looking out for you, we both are because we both love you. Now where’s my dessert?”

 

Rabastan chuckled and snapped his fingers and immediately their house elf server was back.

 

“We’d like our desserts now.” He demanded.

 

Harry narrowed his eyes on Rabastan as the house elf cleared away the table and popped away.

 

“Can’t you be a little nicer to them?”

 

“What? No.” Rabastan said as if the very concept was unbelievable and unreasonable to him.

 

Harry huffed and took a drink from his glass of water.

 

“Look, I’m sorry that I’m not falling over myself to thank the damn elves, can we please not let it ruin our night?”

 

Harry sighed. “Okay. I love you and this is our engagement night and I’m incredibly happy, I just…please stop being so nasty.”

 

“They’re _elves_!” Rabastan insisted in bemusement.

 

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. He let it go. They’d gotten engaged tonight and he wasn’t going to change Rabastan’s mind set in one night. It was going to take much longer than that, but he wouldn’t allow such abuse in his own home. Either Rabastan was nicer to the elves, or they wouldn’t have one when they moved into their own home.

Their desserts came and Harry made a point of thanking the elf before he used his dessert spoon to eat the shaped milk chocolate mousse that had a layer of dark chocolate ganache layered on the top with fresh raspberries. It was gorgeous and it perked his mood right up.

 

“This is amazing.” He groaned in happiness and he looked up to see Rabastan watching him with those lusty eyes again. “What?”

 

“Seeing you suck on that spoon is making my imagination run wild.”

 

Harry blushed before he burst out laughing. “Only you could look at me eating and get aroused.”

 

“Actually, I don’t think that’s true. You’re just a little unobservant.”

 

“How dare you.” Harry said teasingly. “I’ll have you know that I need to be very observant to be the best Seeker in Hogwarts!”

 

Rabastan smiled and took his hand again after they finished their desserts, standing up and leading them over to Lucius and Xerxes and they sat and relaxed to let their meal go down on the group of chairs around a low table where they’d taken their after dinner coffee to join Lucius and Xerxes.

 

“Are you happy, Harry?” Lucius asked him.

 

“Of course. How could I not be?” Harry said. “I love Rabastan so much and now we’re engaged!” He said excitedly, showing his ring off to Lucius and Xerxes, as Rabastan had not allowed anyone to see the ring before Harry himself had seen it. “I wish we could get married this summer, not next, but I do understand why we need to wait.”

 

Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Yes, you do need to wait. No son of mine will be married before he’s graduated and you will not saddle yourself with a baby before you’ve settled into your own home with your Husband. Am I clear?”

 

“Crystal clear.” Harry sighed. “I suppose I could content myself with planning my wedding and studying for my exams.”

 

“You make sure that you do.”

 

Harry smiled and held Rabastan’s hand, about as much as they could do as they were sat in separate armchairs as this room didn’t have a settee. He would have preferred to snuggle with him, especially as they had gotten engaged tonight. He couldn’t wait to show off his ring to everyone, he was so excited and he’d never felt as in love with Rabastan as he did right now tonight. Everything was perfect…he should have known that it would be too good to be true to last too long.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Bill was disgusted as he listened to his Mother cry and had to watch his ashen faced Father attempt to comfort her.

They’d had a letter from the Hogwarts Governors and a bill from Lucius Malfoy. Ron and Ginny had been implicated in the theft and destruction of Harry’s trunk, Firebolt and other belongings and now they were being forced to pay for it.

Their Mother had already screamed at Ron and Ginny before sending them to their rooms, but the hefty bill was still sitting open on their table, taunting them, and Bill felt sick looking at the amount they owed to the Malfoy family…all because of Harry.

It always seemed to come down to Harry Potter these days and Bill had no idea where things had gone so very wrong. Harry had used to be a friend of both Ron and Ginny, of the whole family, and now he was billing them for money that he knew they didn’t have.

The amount that was being asked of them would ruin their family for the next several years, if not the next decade. They just couldn’t afford to pay this kind of money, but he understood why Ron and Ginny had to be held accountable. They had destroyed another student’s belongings, it just hit them all the harder because it was Harry.

Harry who had been welcomed into their family, Harry who knew they were not a well off family. Bill just didn’t understand why Harry would send this bill to them when he could easily afford to replace the belongings damaged in a fit of temper by Ron and Ginny without even making a slight bump in his finances.

He understood that Ron and Ginny needed to be punished for their actions, even if it was just replacing a set of robes or a book and a written apology, but to bill them for absolutely everything that was damaged, especially the ridiculously expensive Firebolt, it was excessive.

 

“What are we going to do, Arthur?” His Mother sobbed.

 

“We’ll get through this, Molly.” His Father said, but Bill saw his Father’s face. He saw the lost, haggard look that had paled his face and the desolate look in his eyes as he looked at the amount they owed.

 

He swallowed and looked back at the letter and the bill that was given to them. It was disgusting and made even worse knowing that the bill had been split between six people. Two of them just happened to be Ron and Ginny.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He’d already applied for overtime at the bank and he knew Fred and George were furious. They’d been by earlier and they’d sworn to give their parents as much of their profits from their shop as they could spare to help pay the debt their family now owed, despite both of their parents insisting that it wasn’t needed and they’d manage somehow. All of them knew that it was a lie.

Bill had even contacted Percy and Charlie, but so far neither of them had answered. He wasn’t too surprised about Percy and he hoped that Charlie was just wrapping things up at the dragon reserve before taking a leave of absence to come and support the family, but even with all of them doing what they could, he wasn’t sure it was enough…he was afraid that this would utterly ruin their family’s finances for years to come. If this continued then they’d never rise above the poverty line.

 

“Wh…wh…why did they have to bill us for Ron and Ginny?” His Mother sobbed yet again. “Gin…Ginny wasn’t even…even involved in taking Harry’s trunk!”

 

“I know, Molly, I know. But she still tried her best to ruin Harry’s broom. They took it in turns to try and demolish it and they need to be punished for it and they need to be held accountable for their actions.”

 

“But…this just seems so unfair! They’re only children, Arthur, just fifteen and sixteen!”

 

Bill felt awful for his parents. His Father looked like he’d aged twenty years and his Mother’s eyes were red and puffy from crying. He couldn’t stand seeing his parents like this and he wanted to punch Harry fucking Potter straight in the face for this.

The flames in the fireplace turned green and Bill was almost relieved to see Charlie stepping out and dusting the soot off of himself.

 

“Oh! Oh, Charlie. It’s so good to see you, dear.” Their Mother stood up and brushed her tears away before embracing her second born son, pulling him down into a crushing hug.

 

“Mum, what’s going on? I got Bill’s owl. What’s happened?”

 

“Oh, it’s just…things have broken down between the family and Percy and now…now Harry’s gone too.”

 

“Harry? Ron’s friend? What happened?” Charlie asked with a frown, trying to keep up with what was happening. He already knew about Percy going off, Bill had owled him about it and Charlie had owled Percy himself, trying to get him to see sense all to no avail.

 

“It’s all been a complete mess.” Molly sobbed as she clutched at Charlie tighter.

 

“I heard about Bill becoming Lord Weasley too, just what is going on?”

 

“Sit down, Charlie, we have much to talk about.” Arthur said.

 

Charlie gently extracted himself from their Mother and sat down. Bill sat next to him and their parents took the seats opposite them both.

 

“So, what’s happened? It’s only been two years. That’s not that long.” He insisted.

 

“It’s far too long, Charlie, dear. I wish you’d get a job closer to home.”

 

“I’ve told you, Mum, I love working with the dragons. I’m not leaving my job.” Charlie said firmly.

 

“Could you at least come and visit more often?”

 

“This is not what we need to talk about.” Bill interrupted as Charlie fidgeted, not answering the question.

 

“Yeah, tell me what in the name of Merlin is going on!”

 

Arthur handed Charlie the letter from the Governors and the bill they’d been given. Bill watched as Charlie read them through slowly.

 

“What is this? I don’t understand.”

 

“I suppose it starts with Harry being adopted by the Malfoys.”

 

“What?! How in the hell did that happen?” Charlie demanded.

 

“It happened last summer, what’s worse is that Harry is now ignoring Dumbledore and doing near enough the exact opposite of everything he says.”

 

“I take it that he stopped speaking to Ron after he was adopted.” Charlie said in righteous fury.

 

“Yeah, according to Ron, Harry snubbed him on the train. He was sitting with his new Slytherin buddies and when Ron and Hermione went to talk to him he was like a completely different person. His voice has changed, his appearance and mannerisms have changed and even his handwriting, all different. It’s all very worrying.”

 

“Right, what does this have to do with you becoming the new Weasley Lord? I thought our family didn’t care about such things.”

 

“We don’t.” Arthur insisted. “But Dumbledore asked us to put aside our disgust at such things so that we could have an ear on the Wizengamot.”

 

“Why would he need us to do that? He’s the Chief Warlock, isn’t he?”

 

“I’m afraid not, Charlie. Malfoy forced Harry to claim his Lordships, which means that Dumbledore could no longer sit on the Wizengamot and was forced to give up his Chief Warlock position. With Harry now Lord Potter and Lord Black, he has two very influential votes and Dumbledore has no seat left on the Wizengamot, so he needs us to be his eyes and ears for him.”

 

“What does Dumbledore hope to achieve from that?”

 

“He hopes to head off any unsavoury new laws that Malfoy wants to pass by getting the public behind him to oppose the laws before they’re written into official legislation.” Arthur explained.   

 

“The key here is knowledge and forewarning so that we can counter anything that Malfoy wants passed that’ll damage our world as we know it.” Bill explained with a sigh. “Harry has proven to be incredibly unhelpful.”

 

“Have you checked him for potions or the Imperius curse?” Charlie asked.

 

“Dumbledore has, several times now, and nothing has shown up. The only potions that Harry has been taking recently are calming draughts, nutrient potions and a few headache relievers and there are no spells on him that can be found. Dumbledore is hoping that it means that Harry is under a very dark curse that doesn’t show up with a basic detection spell.” Arthur said sadly.

 

“You don’t sound so certain.” Bill said with a frown and his Father hesitated before sighing.

 

“I’m afraid that there are no spells or potions detected on Harry because there aren’t any to be found. I’m afraid that Harry is acting under his own influence and he’s behaving the way that he is because he wants to.” Arthur answered grimly.

 

“Our family have done so much for him though!” Charlie said hotly. “Why would he be acting this way of it isn’t a potion or a curse?”

 

“I saw him as a son.” Their Mother sniffled. “I loved him like my own and the first chance he got, he ran off with Lucius Malfoy, of all people. Now that stuck up, cold, snob Narcissa is taking my place. Harry’s calling her Mum, when I did everything for that boy and he never once called me Mum!”

 

“It’s alright, Mum. We don’t need him.” Bill said, running a hand through his long hair in agitation.

 

“So, what about this letter?” Charlie asked, looking back to the letter and the bill that he was still holding in his hand.

 

Arthur sighed heavily. “It seems that Ron and Ginny and some of their other friends took exception to Harry’s new…life choices. They stole all of Harry’s belongings and destroyed them and tried to ruin his Firebolt, which had to be sent for specialist repairs. Lucius Malfoy decided to bill our family for Ron and Ginny’s actions, backed by Hogwarts’ school Governors, of which Malfoy is now the head of once again.”

 

“This is ridiculous! We can’t pay this much!” Charlie said aghast. “This is more than I make in three years at the reserve!”

 

“Unfortunately Ron and Ginny did destroy all of Harry’s property, which was all tailor made robes, a selection of very expensive books, a collection of thirty, sixty millilitre bottles of coloured ink, hand crafted quills, a hand carved trunk and the world’s most expensive racing broom. Thankfully it only needed to be repaired and not completely replaced, or the bill would be even more.” Arthur said sadly.

 

“I can’t believe that Harry is billing our family!”

 

“That’s what I said.” Bill told Charlie.

 

“He has every right to claim damages from us, boys.” Their Father sighed. “I thought I’d raised my children better than to damage someone else’s property, but I guess I failed at that too. I’ll be in my shed.”

 

Bill watched his Father leave through the back door sadly and he felt a well of anger bubble up inside him. Harry Potter would not get away with doing this to his family. He wouldn’t let him humiliate his Father any more than he already had, he wouldn’t let him stomp all over his family as if they were nothing.

 

“What are we going to do?” Charlie asked him as their Mother buried her face into her hands to hide her tears from her sons.

 

“I’m going to work my arse off to get on that Wizengamot and I’m going to do my utmost to take that boy down, Charlie. No one treats us like dirt, not after we welcomed him in like family.”

 

Charlie nodded his head and steeled himself as he tucked away the letters and the bill.

 

“We need to sort this, Charlie, especially with Percy not talking to us, this is probably the worst thing that could have happened. Our family was just getting back on its feet. Me you, Perce and the twins are all out of the house and have jobs, it was just Ron and Gin left and now this. I’m already working as much as I can and I’ve requested overtime too.”

 

“How are you going to work five days, plus overtime and get ready for your acceptance into the Wizengamot and the Weasley Lordship?” Charlie demanded. “It’s too much to take on, Bill.”

 

“I’ve got to try, Charlie.” Bill said softly. “It’s worth it to try.”

 

Charlie nodded and steeled himself to stay at his childhood home for a few weeks. It was going to be near torture, especially as his beloved dragons were going into their breeding season soon and the females would have nests and eggs that the handlers were all charged with protecting, but he had to do this. He had his orders and he had to follow them. It would only be for a few weeks at least, he consoled himself with that knowledge.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

 Neville Longbottom ducked his head away from his gran’s irate anger as she berated him over and over for attacking Harry Potter, the Lord of two houses and respected member of their society.

She’d had a letter from the school Governors that very morning as well as a sixth of a bill for the damage and destruction of Harry Potter’s belongings and she was furious with him.

 

“I didn’t do it, gran.” He said tearfully. “I woke up the third time because of the noise to see Ron, Seamus and Dean trying to pick up Harry’s trunk and I put my hands on it to stop them from taking it. That’s why I was affected by the curse, I swear. Harry was one of my first friends, I wouldn’t have done anything like this to him, gran.”

 

“Lord Potter-Black and his Father seem to think otherwise!” Augusta Longbottom said harshly, but she looked over her grandson critically.

 

“It was only because of how it looked, gran!” Neville insisted.

 

“Then why didn’t you try to explain this to them?” Augusta asked promptly.

 

“Harry wouldn’t let me. He started avoiding me and he’d cut me off as soon as I started talking to him, but I did try to explain what had happened. He just wouldn’t listen, gran.”

 

“I don’t blame him!” Augusta said. “Have you seen how much this bill is for? And it is only a sixth of the total! If I had spent this much on you and then I had to turn around two months later and replace it all again I would be just as livid! This is completely unacceptable, disgraceful behaviour for young gentlemen to engage in and I cannot believe that two young ladies were involved in this scandalous scheme. That boy is a Lord of two houses and he is a celebrity to boot, Neville.”

 

“I know, gran, but I swear I didn’t do it. I was just trying to stop them from taking Harry’s trunk again. I’ve been bullied too often to stand by and watch others do it to someone I thought of as a friend.”

 

“If that’s true then I’ll write to the Governors, I’m sure they wouldn’t want to implicate an innocent young man and I’m sure that if this is true, then you won’t object to proving it.” Augusta gave Neville a beady eyed, hawkish look and narrowed her eyes until her grandson nodded his head.

 

“Of course I won’t object to it, gran. I promise I was trying to help. I wouldn’t bully anyone else like that! Not when…not when I was the subject of it a few years ago. It was Harry who stuck up for me back then, I wouldn’t turn on him now just because he’s been adopted without any say in the matter.”

 

Augusta nodded, proud of the man that Neville was becoming from the pudgy, shy and unconfident boy he’d been when he’d first started at Hogwarts six years before.

 

“Well I am glad that you are at least thinking about this rationally. You, as a Pureblood, know that that boy had no say in the matter of his adoption, but I for one am glad that someone took that boy under their wing and that he’s getting taught all the things that he needs to know.”

 

“I know, gran. I tried to tell him all of that, but he won’t even look at me and now that he’s in his own rooms, I don’t get to see him as he never comes to the common room and he’s not in the dorm room. I can’t even see him in class as when Slytherin have lessons with Gryffindor, Harry sits with Malfoy and when it’s another house, he finds someone to sit with who isn’t a Gryffindor.”

 

“I don’t blame that poor boy.” Augusta insisted. “But if you are innocent, then I will petition the Governors to have you removed from the bill. An innocent person shouldn’t have to pay for another’s crime.”

 

Neville ducked his head and worried over that. If he was taken off of this bill, then that would mean that the others would have to pay more, as it would be split between five and not six and he had already listened to Ron moan about it after Harry had threatened to bill him for the damages.

Ron hadn’t thought Harry would actually do it, even though it was within his rights to do so, so he’d really been groaning about Harry actually threatening him with the bill for the damages when he knew that his family couldn’t afford it more than anything else. Ron was going to be awful to live with now that Harry had actually billed them all for his damaged belongings.

Neville firmed himself, they had done wrong and they needed to pay for it. It wasn’t fair what they’d done to Harry and he knew it, it was why he’d tried to stop them, even if it had been three onto one. Now none of them would speak to him as even though he’d been caught up in Harry’s revenge curse by trying to help him, he still refused to take their side and they’d turned on him because of it, even Ginny, who’d been so sweet to him last year when he’d asked her to the Yule Ball.

It was all such a mess, but he knew that he was innocent, and he hoped that when this was over with and he’d proven himself innocent, that he and Harry could go back to being friends.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was very happy to show off his ring to Narcissa and Draco when he flooed back home later that night with Lucius.

 

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Harry, darling.” Narcissa gushed as she took his hand to look at the ring closer.

 

“I love the blue ring with the edge of platinum.” Draco said as he examined the ring critically. “Paired with the five, beautifully cut diamonds too, Rabastan has done well. It’s a very simple design that actually looks as expensive as it is instead of cheap. This is a well thought out ring and as soon as anyone with any hint of knowledge about jewellery sees it, they’ll know it too.”

 

“Who the hell has knowledge of jewellery?” Harry scoffed.

 

Draco smirked nastily. “Daphne and Pansy for two.” He said and Harry felt a matching evil smirk take over his own face.

 

“Oh, I can’t wait for the train ride.”

 

“Remember not to tell anyone outside of certain… _circles_ about who you’re engaged to.”

 

Harry nodded. “All anyone else is going to know is that the ‘witch’ I’m marrying is a Pureblood from another country.”

 

“A witch? Why a witch?” Draco asked him with his platinum eyebrows lowered in confusion.

 

“To keep my bearer genes a secret from those who don’t deserve to be in the know.” Harry said simply. “It keeps me safer and it’ll keep everyone as far away from guessing that my Fiancé is Rabastan as possible.”

 

Lucius’ eyes gleamed. “I’m very proud that you’ve given such thought to this. I agree, telling those not already in the know that you’re engaged to a lovely young lady from…France, shall we say? Is a very clever idea. I’ll start spreading the news covertly around the Ministry.”

 

Harry grinned. “I want to shout from the Astronomy Tower that I’m marrying Rabastan, but I know that I can’t and I need to keep the both of us safe and our future children safe until the time is right. If that means lying through my teeth about an engagement to a witch in France, so be it.”

 

Harry was missing Rabastan more tonight that he had that morning and talking about being engaged to some fictitious witch from France wasn’t helping. Knowing that his real Fiancé was at his ancestral house, with his vile Father, brought his own mood down. He just wanted to stay by Rabastan’s side, but unfortunately it was too risky to bring the Lestranges over to the manor, just in case the Aurors were still watching their house. Though Lucius was delighting in telling him and Draco that he’d gone to the Minister’s personal home during the afternoon, while Draco had been poking and dressing Harry up for his date, and the elder Malfoy had ripped into the Minister for such an atrocious act of embarrassment in his own house. The elder Malfoy hoped that the Auror observation would be lifted very soon, unfortunately it wouldn’t be soon enough for Harry, who was going to be going back to Hogwarts in just four days. Normal Ministry work wouldn’t be resumed until the day after Harry was back in Hogwarts.

The Minister had all but stumbled over himself to apologise to Lucius and Harry had learnt a valuable lesson with that story. If you’re confident and slightly arrogant, those lesser than you will fall over themselves to do your bidding.

 

“At the end of the day, boys.” Lucius told them as both he and Draco sat the living room with mugs of hot chocolate, hanging on every word of his recounted visit with the Minister. “People will respect authority, and the more gold you earn, the more you can pass on to those in higher offices, like our _dear_ Minister Fudge. If you have gold and authority and don’t use them, it’s a massive waste of potential.”

 

“You’re hinting at me.” Harry said softly.

 

“I am, yes. Whether you like it or not, Harry, you’re a political figure and a famous celebrity. You can sway the masses to your way of thinking, you are a bigger influence than you realise and if you learnt to use that to your advantage…”

 

Lucius trailed off and Harry sat thinking about those words. He couldn’t get them out of his mind, even as the conversation turned to lighter topics. Could he really be such a huge influence? It didn’t seem remotely possible to him that people with their own brains and thoughts would follow his orders just because of his name…it seemed utterly preposterous. But Lucius Malfoy was a very sharp, shrewd man, if he said that he could use his name, fame and gold to bring people around to his way of thinking, then he was probably right. He just needed to learn how to utilise such weapons to his advantage.

 

“How do I use my fame to get people to do what I want?” He asked curiously.

 

Lucius blinked, having been cut off in mid-sentence, and he turned to him. Harry expected a punishment, not a satisfied smirk.

 

“Well now. I certainly didn’t think you’d enjoy the idea of selling yourself to the public. I admit that I’m rather taken aback.”

 

“I don’t like it, the very thought of it makes me feel dirty and wrong, but I recognise that sometimes we have to do things that we don’t particularly like to reach our end objective.”

 

Lucius smiled, truly smiled at him and turned his body to face him fully.

 

“You are growing by the day, in front of our very eyes. I will teach you how to use your name and influence to get others to do as you want. If you’re clever, it’ll be much easier for you, as you’re still a boy. If you can make it seem like the idea you have is that of the one you’re playing, you’ll find other’s suddenly doing absolutely everything you want them to do without them ever knowing that they’ve been played in the first place.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry nodded and he steeled himself to listen to the lessons that Lucius was going to teach him. The thought of using himself in such a way made him feel uneasy and if he were truthful, a bit like a tool. But…but if it helped him to achieve his goals, then he was prepared to give it a try. For example, if he could use his fame where he could and subtle bribes elsewhere to get people to listen to his fears about the Dementors, then it would be worth it to feel used and a bit grubby afterwards.

He needed to test the lessons out first though, he couldn’t go straight from listening to the lessons that Lucius taught him to using it for his cause to kick the Dementors out of Azkaban. He’d have to test it out first and practice it on his fellow students at Hogwarts.

 

“Can you start teaching me tomorrow?” Harry asked, knowing as he did that Lucius wasn’t due back in work until the sixth of January, with the majority of the Ministry work force, and because he and Draco went back to Hogwarts the day before, on the fifth of January, which was a Sunday ready to begin lessons the following day.

 

Lucius looked at him knowingly, as if he knew that Harry wanted to practice on his fellow students, before he nodded. “Yes, I believe that that would be agreeable. Draco is going to visit Astoria tomorrow, I’ll be free to teach you how to use your name and command authority for it.”

 

Harry nodded and went back to his mug of hot chocolate, his mind racing. If he could do this properly, it might actually be worth it if he got what he wanted in the end.

His gaze caught the new ring nestled on his left hand as he lifted the mug to his mouth and he smiled, going back to admiring it. He loved Rabastan and he couldn’t wait until they were married. He hated that the Ministry had ruined their last week together, especially as he and Rabastan had gotten engaged tonight, but it was too risky to have Rabastan come here and downright dangerous for him to go and sleep in the Lestrange manor with Rhadamanthus creeping about. Not that Lucius would have ever allowed him to sleep at Lestrange manor, despite him and Rabastan now being engaged and their wedding planned for the summer of nineteen-ninety-eight, it still wasn’t proper etiquette. Harry hated proper etiquette sometimes.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: These next two months are going to be hectic for me as I’m planning on updating a chapter for a fic every single week, which is going to be pushing me to the limit, but last week I posted up my brand new fic, Tainted Blood, next week will be Rise of the Drackens and then Tainted blood again. October I’m hoping for another update of both Black Heir and Tainted Blood along with the epilogue of Damaged Bodies and hopefully a Scaled Bits chapter too. So I’m very, very busy, but I’m feeling invincible after climbing a mountain three days ago! We’ll see how long that feeling lasts.
> 
> But I hope that you lovelies have enjoyed this new chapter, Harry and Rabastan are finally engaged and they’re getting somewhere! Harry is slowly, very slowly, being tainted by the dark and it’s happening so gradually, he’s not really noticing it.
> 
> I finally revealed why Neville’s hands were affected by the curse, and some of you lovelies actually thought that he was in on it, bless him! No, he was trying to stop Ron, Seamus and Dean from taking Harry’s trunk again and he just happened to touch the trunk to do so. Harry will never be friends with him again, not now that he’s engaged to Rabastan, the guilt would chew him up. So poor Neville is being a bit optimistic in his hopes there.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you lovelies enjoyed this chapter! The next chapter is back to Hogwarts and I’m thinking of bringing in the Wizengamot again…it’s been a while since I showed Harry being a political badass, so more Wizengamot and Ministry scenes are on the way.
> 
>  
> 
> If you wanted to see Harry’s ring, it’s sort of like this one, but it’s edged with platinum and studded with Diamonds and the inside is blue, not silver.
> 
>  
> 
> Buybluesteel com/collections/men-s-wedding-rings/products/stratosphere-brushed-blue-ip-and-silver-stainless-steel-his-and-her-ring-with-step-edges
> 
>  
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	12. Trials and Debates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> His gaze caught the new ring nestled on his left hand as he lifted the mug to his mouth and he smiled, going back to admiring it. He loved Rabastan and he couldn’t wait until they were married. He hated that the Ministry had ruined their last week together, especially as he and Rabastan had gotten engaged tonight, but it was too risky to have Rabastan come here and downright dangerous for him to go and sleep in the Lestrange manor with Rhadamanthus creeping about. Not that Lucius would have ever allowed him to sleep at Lestrange manor, despite him and Rabastan now being engaged and their wedding planned for the summer of nineteen-ninety-eight, it still wasn’t proper etiquette. Harry hated proper etiquette sometimes.

Chapter Twelve – Trials and Debates

 

Harry grinned at Draco as his brother and Blaise messed around in the compartment that they’d chosen. Lucius and Narcissa had come to see them off. The elder Malfoys had gotten the both of them settled into their compartment and then they’d gone again as soon as they were on the train with their trunks and both of their owl cages. Hedwig was on a letter delivery to Remus and Draco’s owl, Saracen, was flying to Hogwarts as he found it more comfortable.

Harry had been given several cards and a few presents by Lucius a few days earlier. His Father had extensively checked them all for any sort of harmful potions or spells before giving them to him, which was a good thing as he’d found a few subtly placed compulsion spells worked in to certain passages of text which, when read by him, would have urged him to do exactly as the passages had instructed. The compulsion spells had all been carefully removed before he’d even been allowed to hold them.

He’d already owled Remus back to thank him profusely for his amazing gift, a small portrait of a much younger Sirius, from before Azkaban, that he could actually talk to and get an answer from, to an extent at least. But he was just so thankful to be able to talk to Sirius again, to hear his voice, that he didn’t care if this version of Sirius had no clue what had happened in the Ministry or anything about the Order of the Phoenix, because as soon as he told the younger version of Sirius what had happened, he’d brushed it off and told him that the best way he could think of dying would be in the place of his friends or Prongs’ baby. Him. Talking to this hilarious, fun-loving Sirius helped to draw out the awful, festering guilt that he was carrying around. It helped him let go of Sirius, even as he talked and joked around with this new one.

Harry had also gotten a tin of fudge from Hagrid and he planned to go and have a talk with him once he was settled back in his private rooms as the half-giant had told him in his letter that he had missed him and his visits last term. As for Ron and Hermione’s written apologies, well, they weren’t fit to wipe his arse with if he was honest. Hermione’s was marginally more sincere than Ron’s, but he assumed that her parents had had a hand in that, what with the incredibly hefty bills they would have received during the first week of the New Year. He assumed that they were trying to get back into his good graces in order to convince him to pay the bill himself or to convince his Father to pick it up instead of themselves. He knew that the two sixths of the bill that had been sent to the Weasleys would have crippled them, but he wiped away those thoughts of guilt and remorse. They had turned on him, they had _all_ turned on him and they’d attacked him without provocation. They’d all brought it on themselves. He had nothing to be guilty for, he had no reason to be remorseful about billing them for his damaged belongings.

 

“What’s that?!”

 

Harry looked up, slightly startled at the sudden, loud noise, to see that Pansy, Millicent and Daphne had arrived in their compartment. Astoria had also arrived and she was sat primly next to Draco, as was her right as his betrothed. Harry was very pleased to note that their hands were entwined together. Draco had already told him that his afternoon with her had gone really well now that he actually knew how to talk to her properly instead of taking her shy silence as disinterest.

 

“What’s what?” Blaise asked, looking in bemusement at Pansy, who’d made the alarming outburst.

 

“That!” Pansy pointed to Harry’s hand, and to the stunning, gleaming ring nestled on his finger.

 

“It’s my engagement ring.” Harry drawled slowly. He was definitely learning the Malfoy family mannerisms.

 

“Oh, you and Rabastan got engaged?” Astoria said happily. “May I see?”

 

Harry held out his hand and Astoria’s tinier one took his and looked the ring over.

 

“It’s so beautiful!” She gushed. “Those diamonds are amazing, very beautifully cut, and the contrast of the blue with the silver is stunning, or is it platinum? It certainly seems whiter than silver.”

 

“It’s platinum. Platinum and blue tungsten. We got engaged on New Year’s night.” Harry said. “He took me on a dinner date to The Garnet Swan or something. I really wasn’t expecting it. I thought he’d propose in the summer.”  

 

“Let me see!” Pansy demanded as she snatched his hand and looked at his ring critically. Harry watched her face and he could almost see that she was pricing it up in her head.

 

She huffed and sat down again. Harry assumed that she could find no fault with the ring, or with how much it had obviously costed, and it made him very smug.

 

“For the sake of the Mudbloods…” Draco trailed off as Harry glared so hard at him he could almost feel the heat of it. Draco sighed. “For the sake of the other _students_ who aren’t in our superior circle, Harry is engaged to a witch from France. We’ve been _ordered_ not to reveal his true Fiancé to anyone.”

 

“Why a witch when you’re obviously gay and have bearer genes?” Blaise asked confused.

 

“Because it’s safer for me and Rabastan if people didn’t know about that particular ability of mine. The Healers aren’t able to reveal anything confidential about me or my medical records as per their oath and the only other copy of the record is locked in my Father’s study.” Harry sighed. “It’ll keep people as far away from thinking of Rabastan as possible if they think that I’m straight and engaged to a foreign witch.”

 

“What is this foreign witch’s name?” Millicent asked. “I’ll drop it in conversation.”

 

“Aceline and she’s from Nantes. It’s too dangerous to link her to an actual Pureblood family though, so don’t bring up last names.” Harry warned.

 

“Make it a lesser Pureblood family.” Pansy said. “With you being a Lord of two houses and incredibly wealthy, it would be suspicious if your bride was also from an incredibly wealthy and influential family. It won’t be noticed if she’s from one of the lesser Pureblood families.”

 

Draco was already nodding. “We have, Pans.” He explained. “She’s not real and not who Harry is actually marrying, so it doesn’t matter. The only thing that does matter is looking after him and keeping him and Rabastan safe. We have our orders.” He stressed again.

 

Everyone in the compartment knew who those orders had come from and not a single one of them dared to go against the one who had made those orders. Harry’s secret was safe, which meant that he and Rabastan would be safe.

After they’d been moving for a while and after the witch with the trolley had been by and Harry had eaten a few snacks and sweets as well as downed a bottle of pumpkin juice, he stood up and stretched himself.

 

“I’ll be back soon.” He said, speaking mostly to the puzzled looking Draco. “I want to go and see Theo for a bit.”

 

Daphne scoffed. “Why do you want to actually talk to that spineless dimwit? He never has anything good or intellectual to say. He has no brain and no spine, he’s like a mollusc. Perhaps I should start calling him slug. It suits him.”

 

Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously and his right hand clenched into a fist, making his knuckles crack.

 

“Be very, very careful, Daphne. Theo is my friend and if you carry on you’ll find out exactly why I’m the top of our year in Defence.”

 

Harry left before he could make good on his promise and he went searching for Theo. He wanted to find out why he hadn’t kicked Daphne out on her arse yet and if he had, for whatever reason, changed his mind about keeping his betrothal to Daphne, then Harry would make sure that he changed it right back again. Daphne was far too poisonous to have such a wonderfully tolerant person such as Theo for a Husband. She didn’t deserve him.

He found Theo in a compartment further down the train from the one that he was in and he was once again sat with a group of seventh year Slytherins.

 

“Harry, how are you?” Theo greeted him like they were the bestest friends as he stood up and hugged him instead of offering a handshake.

 

“I’m good, Theo. I just wanted to come and see you.” He said. “I’m in the same compartment as Daphne.”

 

Theo grinned then. “I suppose you’re wondering why she didn’t blow up at you as soon as she saw you?”

 

“Yeah.” Harry said bluntly. “I am.”

 

He peered around at the very interested seventh years.

 

“Don’t worry about them, they know all about what you did for me and about my troubles concerning Greengrass.” Theo said as he sat down and offered a seat to Harry, which he took.

 

“Then I don’t feel bad in blurting out what the fuck are you still doing with her?”

 

That earned him several laughs, but he wasn’t in a joking mood.

 

“I’m planning to thoroughly humiliate her, don’t worry, Harry. I’m not going to change my mind now that you’ve given me a way out. I’ve already been owling a girl in Poland. She seems really nice.”

 

Harry breathed out a huge sigh of relief. “You don’t know how happy that makes me. When she came waltzing into the compartment as though everything was fine and nothing had changed I was worried that you’d actually changed your mind.”

 

“She’ll get what’s coming to her.” One of the seventh year’s said with a nasty looking smirk to his fellow Slytherins.

 

“Good.” Was all Harry said and he relaxed a little bit.

 

“How was the rest of your holiday? I heard about the Auror raid after I’d left.”

 

Harry grimaced. “It was utterly ridiculous! I was not pleased.”

 

“I was there with my Mother and younger sister.” One of the seventh years said with a grin. “I heard exactly what you thought of the Ministry’s prejudice against us. Very apt.”

 

“I think by now everyone has heard of what he said to the Aurors.” Another one piped up.

 

“I had to protect my interests.” Harry said with a smile.

 

“One particular interest named Rabastan Lestrange?” Theo winked.

 

Harry laughed. “Yes. Exactly.”

 

“I see you’re wearing a ring.” One of the seventh years pointed out and Theo’s gaze narrowed on the beautiful white-silver and blue ring studded with diamonds.

 

“Rabastan and I got engaged on the first.” Harry nodded. “But for the sake of protecting him, I’m engaged to a witch from Nantes called Aceline. The less that those of certain circles know, the better.”

 

“You mean Dumbledore.”

 

“I do.” Harry nodded. “There are certain things that he just does not need to know about me or what I’m doing.”

 

“We all understand that.” Theo nodded. “I can’t believe you and Rabastan are engaged, though!”

 

“I know.” Harry said excitedly. “I wasn’t expecting it, I thought for sure that he’d propose this summer, seeing as we can’t marry until after I graduate.”

 

“Where did he propose?” Theo asked.

 

“Some restaurant called The Garnet Swan. I don’t know where it was, I didn’t ask. It just didn’t seem important at the time.”

 

“That place charges half a bank vault for a salad.” One of the seventh years snorted. “It’s almost impossible to get a table too, they’re always fully booked and you have to make reservations over a year in advance, you haven’t even been seeing Rabastan that long.”

 

“We had one of the private rooms on the upper floor.”

 

Harry got incredulous looks when he said that.

 

“What did you expect?! Rabastan can hardly go out in public!” He scoffed.

 

“I thought he was using Polyjuice or something! Those rooms are for the most important of Pureblood dignitaries! They even turned away the Minister for Magic and several foreign guests once, just because he didn’t have a reservation and he hadn’t booked one of the three private rooms, even though all three of them were empty at the time! They can afford to turn away customers with how much they charge!”

 

Harry grinned. “Rabastan knows the owner and his family.” He boasted. “The owner’s son was Rabastan’s best friend in school and now Rabastan can eat there whenever he pleases with only a pittance of forewarning.”

 

“Merlin, wait until I tell my sister! She’s been trying to get a date to take her there for years, but it’s virtually impossible.” One of the Slytherin’s laughed.

 

“I suppose it helped that you’re Harry Potter too.”

 

“I doubt it, if the owner and his family are friends with the Lestranges then I probably wouldn’t be able to get a reservation even if it was ten years in advance.”

 

“Things have changed now.” Theo said cryptically. “Everyone of import knows it.”

 

Harry nodded seriously. “They have changed, insurmountably so over the last couple of months.”

 

Harry stayed with Theo and the seventh years for a while. He felt much better knowing that Theo was still planning on getting rid of Daphne, that he was just waiting for the right moment to utterly humiliate her to make up for all of the humiliation and disrespect that she had offered to him over the years of their betrothal.

He left their compartment and he made his way back down to where Draco was, typically, it just happened to be his luck that he ran into Hermione, Ron and Ginny on his way back.

 

“Harry! Can we talk for a minute?” Hermione asked him, darting out of a compartment to head him off.

 

“I have nothing to say to you.” Harry said haughtily, pulling up his Lord Potter-Black persona that he used in the Wizengamot.

 

“Please, Harry. We just want put all of this behind us.” Hermione tried.

 

“We were friends once.” Ginny added. “Please, just hear us out. For old time’s sake.”

 

“We are sorry about everything, Harry.” Hermione told him after he remained silent. “We were just angry and we overreacted.”

 

“Overreacted?” Harry drawled slowly. “Is that what you call turning on me for something completely out of my control?”

 

“We realise now that it truly wasn’t your fault that Malfoy adopted you.” Hermione ploughed on. “I didn’t know anything about magical adoptions, only a little bit about Muggle ones, but I’ve been reading up on them and well…I know now that Malfoy held all the cards and you were given to him without your knowledge or consent. You don’t have to be alone in this anymore, Harry. We want to help you through this.”

 

“Please say something, Harry.” Ginny pleaded after he remained still and silent.

 

“I apologise for my lengthy pause, it was rude of me to stagnate the conversation. I’m merely trying to wrap my head around the sheer audacity you have to even approach me.” He forced himself to say.

 

A couple of months ago he would have begged for this to happen. He had even dreamed of it on occasion, of his friends apologising and admitting that they’d overreacted through lack of knowledge about what had happened to him over the summer. But now, it was different now. How could he ever know for sure if they truly wanted to apologise and tentatively rebuild their friendship, or if they just wanted to get into his good books so that he’d take the debt hanging over their heads away? There was no way he could know for sure, so he couldn’t accept their apologies and he couldn’t let them back in his life. The thought of that made him feel like he was in actual, physical pain.

He thought of Rabastan and calmed himself down. He was engaged to be married, he loved Rabastan with all that he was and he would have a family with him. It was too dangerous to let Hermione, Ron and Ginny back into his life with any doubts or uncertainties over their loyalties or motives. If they read one of his letters and saw something that they shouldn’t or they got so much as a hint that the person he was engaged to was a man then he would be putting Rabastan in danger, but more than that, he’d be putting the Malfoy’s in danger too. He couldn’t risk it, their meagre friendship wasn’t worth his entire future. The future that he’d been planning and mapping out for himself and Rabastan since he’d first heard that he was going to be betrothed to Rabastan Lestrange whether he liked it or not.

 

“That you even dare to come near me, let alone speak to me, after what you did at the start of the school term. Where do you even get the nerve?!” He demanded. “Do you think me so inept and utterly brainless you actually believe that I can’t see what this is really about? I know the breakdown of the final bill for my damaged possessions was in my Father’s hand on the twenty-third of December. He sent all relevant documents to the correct person in the correct department at the Ministry, who split the cost of all of my school replacements and the repair work done on my broom into six equal parts and your parents would have received the bill in the first week of the New Year. A bit suspicious that suddenly you’ve all had a change of heart and want to be friends again just after those letters arrived. How very obvious of you.”

 

The three of them shared a look and that was all Harry needed to know that they were never serious about being his friend again. They were doing it because of the debt that each one of them now owed, a debt which was a very substantial amount of gold. Being a Malfoy, all of his belongings had been of the very best quality, handmade, hand tailored and that was without throwing in the repairs on his Firebolt, the world’s best, and most expensive, racing broom on top of everything else too. They had all been expensive to buy and expensive to replace and repair too.

 

“That’s not why we’re doing this!” Hermione insisted stubbornly.

 

“Liar.” Harry snapped at her. “It’s the only reason you’re here, trying to get me to remove the debt. Well, I’ll save us all the time of day. I am never going to accept an apology off of you now. It is too _late_. If you’d done this before the end of the last term, I would have considered it, but not now. Now I know you’re only trying to get me to call back the debt that all of you owe for damaging everything I own!”

 

“Will you never forgive us?” Hermione pleaded softly.

 

“No.” He said simply. “The books, robes and the trunk I could have easily forgiven, the material items I could have forgiven, but you maliciously tried to destroy the one remaining thing that Sirius had bought and given to me. You _knew_ how much that Firebolt meant to me. Not because it’s the best broom in the world or because it’s still unmatched three years later, no, but because he gave it to me, because it was one of the only gifts he was able to give to me, because he had touched it with his own hands! I loved that broom because of the sentimentality attached to it and now that Sirius is dead, I cling to it harder! You tried to rip that away from me! It had to be stripped back to a bare handle and meticulously tested to make sure it was safe before it was repaired. You did that knowing full well how devastated I’d be if I ever lost that one remaining physical link to Sirius. Just seeing it in that damaged state was enough to devastate me, you’re just lucky that the handle that he’d touched with his own hands wasn’t chipped or fractured in your cruel attempt to rob me of the memory of Sirius.”

 

“He’d be so disa…”

 

“If you finish that sentence, Hermione, you will not be walking off of this train.” Harry threatened softly, his eyes glinting icily. “You knew nothing about Sirius, you have no idea what he’d say in this situation or what he’d be thinking, so don’t even pretend that you know.”

 

“Remus knew him best and…”

 

“Did you know that Remus has been to see me several times since I was adopted and that we correspond through owls regularly?” Harry put in, false nonchalantly.

 

Hermione looked startled and Harry knew that she hadn’t known that he and Remus were talking to one another. She had obviously expected him to have cut Remus off like everyone else or for Remus to be too angry to speak to him.

 

“I take it from the flush creeping up your neck that you didn’t know. Allow me to enlighten you, seeing as you are very deluded on your view of both Remus and Sirius. Remus knew that I had no choice in my adoption from the very beginning, seeing as he wasn’t stupid enough to think that I’d organised it myself or agreed to actually go and live with the Malfoys. Naturally he was worried about me and my safety, so he came to see me at the very first opportunity he could, where I reassured him that I was safe and being very well looked after. He’s happy for me and he told me that as long as I’m happy and safe, he doesn’t care who it’s with and he told me that not only Sirius, but my parents would have wanted me safe and happy too, no matter who it was with. So before you even dare to try and emotionally blackmail me with my _dead_ family members, remember that the person who knew them the very best has already told me that they’d be fine with my living arrangements and how I’m currently living and conducting myself. I’m happy, Remus is happy for me, it’s your downfall if you can’t be happy for me too and it’s no fault of my own.”

 

“Please, Harry.” Ginny tried.

 

He sighed, they’d gone back to begging. He’d had enough. There was only so much pain and heartbreak he could take in one day.

 

“If that was all?” He snapped, making a move to slip around the group of three.

 

“You liked me once.” Ginny said softly. “Like liked me.”

 

Harry sighed and rubbed his face with his hand.

 

“I think it’s fair to say that that ship sailed when you turned on me and tried to destroy my Firebolt.” Harry hissed.

 

“It doesn’t have to be!”

 

“Yes, yes it does.” Harry said sternly. “You tried to destroy one of the only things I had left of my family! I don’t want to be anywhere near someone who is so cruel or malicious.”

 

“No, you see I had nothing to do with destroying your stuff. The others had a misguided view of things, but I love you, Harry. I always have.”

 

“No you don’t!” Harry hissed. “You don’t even like me, so stop pretending!”

 

“I’m not pretending, Harry! I’ve always liked you.” Ginny said defiantly, with a flush reddening her freckled cheeks. “Don’t you remember Valentine’s Day in first year, well, your second, my first year?”

 

“Honestly? I’m trying to block that particular horrifying memory from my mind.” He said.

 

Ginny glared at him and Ron swelled with anger.

 

“You were a little, eleven year old girl and I was twelve. What the hell did you think would come of that?” He demanded.

 

“I liked you even then!”

 

“No! You had no concept of those sorts of feelings as a mere eleven year old!” Harry shouted. “You wanted the stories of The-Boy-Who-Lived! I am not a fucking story, Ginny! I am a living, breathing person and you can’t have me.”

 

“You liked me last year!”

 

“A hell of a lot has changed since then, Ginny, and even then I didn’t see you as a girlfriend. You’re Ron’s sister, I was nice to you because of that, nothing more.”

 

“You’re lying! You do like me!”

 

Harry blew out a breath and thrust his left arm out, splaying his fingers and letting his platinum and blue tungsten ring catch the light streaming through the train windows, making the five large, cut diamonds sparkle.

 

“What’s that?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

 

“I would have thought the most intelligent witch of our school year would recognise a ring when she saw one and would realise the significance of a ring on the third finger of the left hand.”

 

“You went and got married.” Hermione whispered, as if she were having problems breathing or getting her words out.

 

“Married? Hell no. Not yet at any rate, but I am engaged. I got matching rings for me and my future bride, Aceline. She’s truly wonderful. I took her to The Garnet Swan on New Year’s night to propose to her. Of course she said yes.”

 

“You’re following that barbaric Pureblood tradition that forces young women to move to a different country with near strangers, just to preserve bloodlines?!” Hermione demanded shrilly. “She’s going to be forced to leave her home and her birth country, her family and friends, just for the sake of marrying you! All this male supremacy and the patriarchal society that Purebloods hold is archaic and disgusting. You expecting her to move just because you’re the man is sexist, callous and inhumane!”

 

“Are you quite done? Aceline is not the one moving because she’s a woman, if you actually knew anything of Pureblood culture or our traditions then you’d know why she’s the one moving to me instead of sprouting your biased, Muggleborn assumptions…again. I am from the more influential, wealthy family.” Harry insisted haughtily. “I would expect my bride, who is from a lesser family, to move into my home, of course, as I am bringing more into our marriage than she is. If she were from the more influential family, then _I_ would be moving to _her_. Aceline is very happy with our engagement and she is busy planning our wedding to her desires. Price is, of course, no issue for me, she can have whatever she wishes. Though thankfully she knows a bit of English, so we can actually converse together, but I am still learning French to help make things easier for her and her family.”

 

Harry left the three of them speechless and he forced himself past them and he made it back to his compartment.

 

“You were gone for a very long time.” Draco said, looking him over critically and visibly relaxing at his still pristine appearance as Harry sat himself back down.

 

“I ran into the two Weasleys and Granger on my way back.” Harry said simply.

 

“They didn’t give you any trouble did they?” Draco asked, his face hardening and his hand flexing towards his wand.

 

“No. They did try, but I’m very capable of outwitting them. I told them all about Aceline though.” He said with a laugh. “Ginny seemed to think that me and her would be perfect together, so I shoved my ring in her face.”

 

“Such a ring is wasted on her, as if she knows how much it costs or even what was used to make it.” Pansy sniffed. “She’d probably mistake the platinum for mere silver!”

 

“As if Father would allow you to marry so low. He’d rather you be with another Half-Blood than a blood traitor.” Draco told him.

 

“Need I remind you that I was legitimised at birth?” Harry drawled. “For all intents and purposes, I am a Pureblood and I need to marry another Pureblood to keep the line Pure.”

 

“I’m glad you understand that.” Blaise said before winking at him. “But is there no way I can change your mind? I’d be a good Husband for you too.”

 

“No you wouldn’t.” Draco snapped at his friend, giving him a glare. “If I so much as hear of you touching my brother, you’ll regret it, Blaise! I mean it!”

 

“It’s beside the point.” Harry cut in. “I’m engaged and I’m very happy. I’m not leaving Rabastan for anyone, for any reason.”

 

“He might get rid of you.” Daphne told him with a sniff.

 

“Why?” Harry asked her. “Unlike you, I haven’t given Rabastan a reason to distrust me or be displeased with me or my behaviour.”

 

“Give it time, you’re not married yet.” Daphne answered.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous and shallow. Unlike you, Daphne, I’m not risking everything I have for nothing and I’m not throwing Rabastan away like he’s nothing. We love one another and we’re going to get married and have a family.”

 

“Don’t delude yourself. He’s with you because he’s been ordered to.” Daphne scoffed and Pansy and Millicent both gasped and even Blaise looked shocked at her daring, presumably for revealing the Dark Lord’s orders to one who wasn’t supposed to know.

 

“That isn’t true.” Draco said calmly. “ _He_ didn’t know about Father choosing Rabastan as Harry’s betrothed until _after_ the Lestranges had accepted the contract.”

 

“It’s beside the point. Rabastan loves me for who I am.” Harry said easily. “You haven’t even spoken to him, how would you know what he’s thinking and feeling? You make me laugh sometimes, Daphne, you really do. Just because you’re a complete bitch and think that way doesn’t mean that we all do and one of these days, you’re going to regret everything you’ve said and done.”

 

Daphne scoffed, but Blaise looked at him curiously, as if guessing that he knew something and he was incredibly interested to know what he did about Daphne and her betrothal, or future lack of one. Blaise was very observant with the things that people said, and even more so with what they didn’t say. Harry gave him a covert wink and settled himself back in his seat, waiting for the new school term. He got out a book and started reading up on Ancient Runes. He’d already sent a letter to Marcus about his tutoring, now he wanted to brush up on the basics at least, just to make sure he didn’t make a stupid mistake and make Marcus regret offering to tutor him.

 

“I thought you’d already read that book.” Pansy pointed out.

 

“I have. I’m reading it again ready for the new term, just to assure myself that I have the basics down and memorised.”

 

Harry ignored everyone then and sunk into his book. He had ten weeks to survive before the Easter holiday came around and he could go back home and see Rabastan again. Now that they were engaged, those ten weeks were going to seem longer than the three and a half months it had taken from September to the Christmas holidays. He couldn’t wait until he was graduated and they could get married and actually live together.  

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

It took five days for Dumbledore to call him back into his office, the man was learning and he had waited for the end of lessons on Friday the tenth to send McGonagall to him to call him to his office.

He was annoyed, he’d planned to start his homework straight after dinner and now he was going to be behind in his schedule and Marcus was coming on the third weekend of term to tutor him and he still needed to read fifteen more chapters in his review of the basics of Ancient Runes.

His annoyance lasted until he got through the office door and he was once again crushed into a hug by a werewolf.

 

“Remus!” He laughed as he hugged back tight. “What are you doing here?”

 

“You never answered my letter and I sent you a gift and a card for Christmas.” Remus said frantically.

 

“I answered it a few days ago, Hedwig will be with you soon if she’s had to double back on herself and come to Hogwarts. Poor girl, you give her extra treats when she finds you.” Harry said sternly.

 

“Why did you get them so late? I made sure to send them with enough time to reach you exactly on Christmas Day.”

 

“I was so busy with the Parkinsons Winter Gala and then the traditions for Christmas Day and then my parents hosted the New Year’s party. There was only a week between them! I didn’t mean to, but I left them on my bedside table when they arrived and only just managed to open them this week. I loved the painting of Sirius, Remus. Thank you. I framed it and I keep it on my bedside table where I can easily see it. Speaking to him again has really helped me and I’ve stopped having so many nightmares. I can’t thank you enough for it.”

 

Remus sighed and visibly relaxed after Harry had explained why he’d been so late in responding.  

 

“You never told me that Sirius snores quite that loud though!” Harry teased, forcing a surprised laugh from Remus. “I have to silence him at night just to get any sleep at all!”

 

“We did the same in the dorms. It drove James mad as he couldn’t sleep if there was even the slightest noise.”

 

Harry grinned and soaked up all the information being given to him. At least until Dumbledore made his presence known.

 

“I owe you an apology, Harry.” Dumbledore spoke up from behind his desk. “I realise that perhaps I have handled things wrong these last several months. Will you please take a seat and listen to me?”

 

Harry wondered what new tactic this was as he cautiously sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk. Remus sat next to him and Harry took his hand and squeezed it, giving Remus a smile.

 

“Now, can you explain what this meeting is about? I have homework to be doing.” He said primly, straightening his back and relaxing his shoulders as Narcissa had taught him.

 

“I wanted to clear the air between us, Harry.” Dumbledore insisted. “Perhaps a monthly meeting, just once a month, to sit down and talk to help rebuild the trust that we once had.”

 

“I don’t think that’ll ever happen.” Harry said simply.

 

“Can’t you try, Harry?” Remus asked softly.

 

Harry looked into imploring eyes and he sighed. “I’ll owl my Father and see what he thinks. He may want to be here, just to ensure my safety.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Harry.” Dumbledore told him seriously, those blue eyes very sad.

 

“Regardless I’d feel better if someone were here with me for these meetings. Just in case.”

 

“How about if I stay here for the meetings, Harry?” Remus asked. “I wanted to spend a bit more time with you anyway, you’re all I have left now.”

 

Harry’s face softened and he reached back out to lace his fingers with Remus’, squeezing comfortingly.

 

“Okay, but I still want to confer with my Father first. He’ll know what’ll be for the best. I have to wait for Hedwig to come back first though.”

 

“You do still want to defeat Voldemort, don’t you?” Dumbledore asked suddenly and Harry got the feeling that he was under a microscope, his very movements being dissected and scrutinised by old, blue eyes.

 

He acted quickly, not entirely acting either, and he grit his teeth and clenched his hand tight. He needed to play this right. He was staying out of this war, completely out of it, but if he could stay out of it by pretending to still be fighting _with_ Dumbledore against Voldemort, then he might be able to stay out of the war for a lot longer and keep himself and his family safer.

 

“Of course I do! He’s a monster and he killed my parents!” Harry raged. “He killed Sirius and Cedric too! I want him gone! I just don’t see why I’m the one who needs to do it. There are others, the Aurors, the Order, you! Why can’t all of you pitch in together to get rid of him? I’ve had enough and I’m not fighting, but that doesn’t mean that I still don’t want Voldemort gone and out of my life. I do.”

 

“Good, that’s good, Harry. We can work with that if it’s what you want.”

 

Harry let out a deep breath and sat back again, relaxing from his tensed posture.

 

“It is. I’ve seen far too much in my life and I can’t take any more. I’ve done _enough_ already!” He insisted. “Last year was devastating to me. Do you have any idea how I feel having seen Sirius die in front of me, knowing that it was my fault that he was there in the first place?! It was the last straw, I’m not putting myself through that anymore.”

 

“Harry, it wasn’t your fault!” Remus insisted firmly.

 

“It was. If I’d learnt Occlumency properly, then I wouldn’t have had that vision and gone charging off to the Ministry.”

 

“Occlumency is an incredibly rare, obscure branch of magic, Harry and it’s very difficult to do.” Remus explained.

 

“But…I managed to cast a Patronus.” He said sadly.

 

“Oh Harry.” Remus sat on the edge of his seat and turned to fully face him, cupping his cheeks and resting their foreheads together. “The Patronus charm is based on magical power, Harry. I never thought that you’d get more than mist, but you got a full, corporeal Patronus at just thirteen. Do you know how extraordinary that is? But Occlumency isn’t based on magical power, it’s based fully on mental ability, meditation and cutting off the emotions. Only one in one hundred will be able to meet the prerequisites for even achieving the basics in Occlumency, Harry. It’s not your fault that you couldn’t get the hang of it within a few months. It takes years and years of practice and building up to certain levels to achieve anything in Occlumency. We always thought that we had more time, that you would be in those lessons for the next few years, not mere months.”

 

“Why did I believe the vision, Remus?” He asked softly, trying to hold back the tears, but they still shone through, making his eye extra bright and shiny.

 

“Because you loved him, Harry. Because you saw him captured, trapped and in pain and you reacted to that because you loved him and Sirius went after you because he loved _you_. You both loved one another fiercely and the both of you just wanted to protect one another. What happened to Sirius wasn’t your fault, it was Bellatrix Lestrange’s fault.”

 

Harry swallowed and his fists clenched again. He’d tried to dissolve the marriage between Rodolphus and Bellatrix, as a favour to the Lestrange family, but the contract that Rhadamanthus had drawn up with the late Cygnus Black had been air tight and there wasn’t a fault or loop hole that he could exploit. He’d even asked the goblins if it could be broken, but they had told him that it couldn’t…except in the case of death of one of the spouses. That had a new plan forming, one that included Bellatrix’s death. He could get his revenge for Sirius. He was already planning Rhadamanthus’ death, why not kill two birds with one stone and take out Bellatrix too?

It seemed to be the only way, he couldn’t dissolve the marriage between Rodolphus and Bellatrix, so he couldn’t disown her from the Black family without offering massive insult to the Lestranges, and as they were to be his Husband and in-laws, he couldn’t afford to insult them in such a way, nor take credibility from their family by disowning Bellatrix like he wanted to as it would harm his own marriage. It was infuriating and it made him hate Rhadamanthus all the more.

He calmed himself. Soon. Very soon. He would take his cold revenge on them both and free the Lestranges from Bellatrix and Rhadamanthus both. Then Rodolphus could marry whomever he wanted and he could finally have the child that he desired without his poisonous, petty father dictating to him what to do or who to tie himself to for the rest of his life.

 

“I wish things had been different. If Sirius were still alive then none of this would have happened.”

 

“How do you mean, Harry? Are you talking about your adoption? Are you unhappy at the Malfoys’?” Remus asked him, his eyes widening in panic at the thought of him being hurt or upset.

 

“What? No! I just…I wish that things had been different. If Sirius were still alive, my parents were still alive, things could have been so much different. Why is it always me? Why are _my_ parents dead, why is _my_ Godfather dead, why is it _my_ name on a prophecy, why is it always me who has to fight? Why me and not someone else?”

 

“Oh, Harry.”

 

He was pulled back into a hug and he held on tight to Remus as a few tears slipped out for good measure.

 

“I’m making the most of things, Remus. The Malfoys adopted me, I couldn’t control that and I had no say, but they’re helping me so much! They’re the family I always needed, despite everything. I’m so happy, I just wish that everything had been different and that none of this had happened in the first place. I wish there had never been a Voldemort.”

 

“It’ll be alright, Harry. As soon as you’re graduated, you’ll be free to do what you want to do.”

 

“I already know what I’m going to do.” Harry said with a smile, pulling back and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. Narcissa would have scolded him if she’d seen him do such a thing.

 

“You wanted to be an Auror, didn’t you?”

 

Harry shook his head. “Not any more. I’m done with fighting in all forms, including being a part of the Aurors, they’re just Ministry lackeys. It’s a wonder they can even function properly with how stupid they all are. No, I think I want to be a teacher. I’ve looked into it and France has an amazing trainee teacher programme and they make spaces for apprentice teachers on the Beauxbatons teaching staff.”

 

“You want to be a teacher at Beauxbatons?” Remus asked, completely shocked.

 

Harry nodded. “It was you who made me think more seriously about being a teacher, Remus and then I got the bug for it when teaching the DA. I think it’ll suit me so much better than anything else.”

 

“But, why Beauxbatons?” Remus asked.

 

“Because they’re the only school who run this trainee teacher programme. I’m already learning French and really…” Harry took a breath and made a point to make it look like he was warring with himself. “I’m getting a lot of help too, seeing as my Fiancée is French.”  

 

“Fiancée?!” Remus looked like he was going to pass out and even Dumbledore looked shell shocked, in a miserable, grave way that made him look fifty years older.

 

“Yeah, her name’s Aceline. She’s amazing. We’ve been betrothed since August and on the first of January I took her to The Garnet Swan and proposed to her with matching rings as she wanted us both to have a ring to wear.”

 

Harry held out his left hand and let them see the ring on his finger.

 

“She doesn’t speak much English, but she understands enough and she’s teaching me French too, so we are able to have a conversation now. It’s customary for her to move in with me, as she’s from the lesser family, but if I get into this teaching programme, then it’ll make a lot more sense if I move to France with her. She’s so excited that she’s even started planning our wedding already.” Harry laughed. Remus and Dumbledore did not join in.

 

“Are…are you getting married this summer?” Remus asked weakly.

 

Harry laughed louder. “No! I’m not getting married while I’m still in school! What sort of married life would that be, with me stuck here and Aceline stuck elsewhere? No, our wedding is planned for two summers after this one coming. In nineteen-ninety-nine. After we’ve both graduated. I have to wait the extra year because Aceline is a year younger than I am, but that’s not a bad thing as the training programme is very extensive and time consuming, we might even have to put the wedding off until early two thousand if my training keeps me too busy. That way I can focus on securing my teaching post while Aceline gets her final examinations over and done with and goes into her Healer apprenticeship, then we can get married.”

 

He didn’t know what had made him lie about the date of his wedding, but his gut had told him that it would be safer to tell Dumbledore that it was another year or two on top of what it was actually going to be. As Dumbledore relaxed and got a twinkle in his eye, as if he were already scheming, Harry mentally congratulated himself on his lie. He just hoped that he’d done enough to keep Dumbledore from ruining his wedding upon his own graduation.

 

“Are you sure this is what you want, Harry?” Remus tried.

 

Harry nodded seriously. “I love her, Remus. She’s so kind and gentle, she’ll make a wonderful Mother one day. She’s also smart and very thoughtful and she’ll be an amazing Healer. She fully supports my decision to become a teacher too. She’s amazing, but hell does she have a temper. When she gets fired up, everyone knows about it.”

 

“She sounds like your Mother.” Remus said softly.

 

Harry pulled a thoughtful face. “Hmm…maybe that’s why I love her so much.”

 

“She’s not a redhead, is she?”

 

Harry grinned. “No. She has dark hair and beautiful, bright blue eyes. I love her eyes.”

 

“Now you sound like your Father…I mean James.” Remus said a bit awkwardly.

 

Harry cocked his head. “He’s still my Father, Remus. He’s always going to be my Father. I told you that at the beginning of the year. Lucius is filling in because I don’t have anyone else to do so, but James will always, always be my Dad, no matter who I’m calling Father right now.”

 

Remus nodded and he looked happier than when Harry had come into the office, but he looked worried too, presumably over his engagement and his plans to marry.

 

“Was that all? I really need to make a start on my homework. Anyone would think that my NEWTs were this year, not next.”

 

“Of course, Harry. I think we’ve kept you long enough. But remember my offer for a truce, please.” Dumbledore insisted.

 

Harry nodded once, curtly, before he hugged Remus one last time and strode from the office. He got to the bottom of the spiral staircase and he let out a sigh of relief. He’d survived yet another meeting between himself and Dumbledore. He was doing well and he hadn’t even lost his temper this time. He really needed to owl Lucius though, he needed his opinion on these ‘truce’ meetings with Dumbledore.

Instead of going back to his rooms, as he so dearly wished to, he went straight to the Owlery and called down Draco’s owl, Saracen.

 

“Can you deliver a letter to home for me, Sar?” He asked as he groomed the pretentious owl gently.

 

The handsome Eagle owl cawed out loudly and nibbled his finger, a lot rougher than Hedwig ever did, but not breaking his skin either.

Harry sat down on the Owlery floor, not caring about the straw or owl droppings, he’d be changing as soon as he made it back to his rooms anyway, as he placed Saracen on his lap and quilled a quick letter to Lucius with a self-inking quill.

He tied it gently to Saracen’s leg and gave him a last, firm grooming, before getting him onto his arm and standing up, going to the glassless window.

 

“Take this straight to Lucius for me, Saracen, as quickly as you can.”

 

Harry flung his arm out and Saracen took flight, looking majestic as always as he glided for several feet before he flapped his wings in perfect unison.

 

“Bloody show off.” Harry muttered fondly. “Just like your Master.”

 

Harry turned and went back to the castle and to his rooms. He was going to have to tell Draco tomorrow morning that he’d used Saracen for an emergency letter.

He made it to his rooms without any problems, everyone was in their common rooms or getting ready for bed. He changed into his pyjamas, but unfortunately he didn’t have time to do his homework now, he’d have to do it all tomorrow. He was thankful now that he’d moved the Gryffindor Quidditch practice to Sunday at any rate as he settled onto his settee with a cup of tea and his Ancient Runes book. He’d read it for half an hour and then get himself to bed, he was going to have a long, busy day sorting out all of his homework assignments, so he needed to get up early.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The first fortnight back at Hogwarts was so jam packed and stressful that Harry just wanted to drop to the floor and stay there so that he could just rest. He had so much homework that he barely had time for anything else. He’d held Quidditch practice last Sunday and when he’d woken up on the Monday he’d been so sore that it had been agony to move.

It was Thursday today and Harry was desperate to finish his Ancient Runes basics review before Saturday, when Marcus would be coming to tutor him for a couple of hours, he was nervous about that as he had no idea what to expect from it. Every spare moment had been dedicated to reading the last few chapters of the basics book he’d been given by Lucius last August. It was currently breakfast time and he had the book open at the end of the Gryffindor table, reading furiously and eating very little.

He was very stressed as he still hadn’t heard anything from Lucius and Dumbledore was pressing him for their little meetings, exclaiming that they were very important and urgent. Harry couldn’t think of anything that would be that urgent, but he was getting increasingly ratty every time he had to tell Dumbledore that he was waiting on his Father’s advice and he would get back to him when he had an actual answer. At the moment he was considering telling Dumbledore to shove his little meetings, just out of pure frustration from being hounded over it constantly.

At ten to nine in the morning, he packed up his things and quickly made his way, with the majority of the Great Hall, to his first lesson of the day. Double Potions.

He was partnered with Draco, as usual, so Potions wasn’t quite the torture that it used to be as Snape wouldn’t pick on Draco and with Harry being Lucius’ son now too, it was difficult for the man to insult or belittle him and he couldn’t rip apart his work either, because Draco was one of the very best at Potions. It was only really when they were working on separate potions that Harry sort of fell apart, but with Draco sat next to him, he was always on hand to help him.

 

“All of you, cauldrons out.” Snape ordered.

 

Harry sighed. It was a solo potion, not a partnered one, as if he wasn’t already stressed enough. He was too exhausted to be doing this, he was likely going to cause an accident, like Neville always did.

Harry had just finished that thought as he bent down to get his cauldron from his satchel when the rings on his right hand heated up and burnt for several long seconds.

He sat bolt upright and looked at his Lordship rings. They had never done that before, but he didn’t hang around to question it. He immediately packed all of his books and quills back into his bag.

 

“What? What is it?” Draco asked urgently.

 

“Wizengamot meeting. Get the set homework assignments for me, please. Oh and don’t forget to get my extra homework for Arithmancy, Professor Vector knows what I’ve done and what she’s going to give me next.” Harry whispered back. “Professor? I’m going to have to leave.”

 

“Mister Potter. What is this disturbance? Do you think you are too good to learn potions with your peers? You chose this subject for your NEWTs after all, and argued about your _right_ to be included in this class despite not achieving the required OWL grade.”

 

“I know, Sir, I’m sorry, but a Wizengamot meeting has been called. I’m needed at the Ministry.”

 

Snape stared hard at him for a moment, before he nodded once and Harry was gone, sweeping out of the classroom and all but running back to his rooms where he threw down his bag, stripped off his uniform and forced his limbs into the expensive robes he had chosen and hung up waiting for his next Wizengamot meeting. He tore his Gryffindor tie off and did his shirt up to the collar before he tore back out of the room and all the way down the four floors and out onto the grounds and over to Hogsmeade. He made it just in time to catch his breath and wipe his sweaty face with a handkerchief which he had only just tucked back into his pocket before his second Portkey activated and he took a step forward and kept walking, expecting everyone to move out of his way as a Lord of two houses. He couldn’t see at the moment anyway, so if they didn’t move, he was going to bump into them.

He automatically made his way towards the lifts to take him to the Wizengamot meeting room on the second level, however he met Lucius and Xerxes right outside the lifts and they seemed to be waiting for him, which was unusual in itself.

 

“You’re almost late.” Xerxes told him with a critical look to his face and clothes, making sure that they were up to standard.

 

“Snape wasn’t going to let me leave Potions until I explained what was happening.” Harry said, breathing deeply to make it seem like he was in control of himself when his heart was racing and his chest was heaving from his run through the castle and the grounds. “It took forever to get from the dungeons to the fourth floor, where my rooms are, get changed and then get to Hogsmeade before I missed my Portkey…thank Merlin I’m not in Gryffindor Tower anymore, because I don’t think I’d have made it up to the seventh floor from the dungeon and then back down and out to Hogsmeade before the second Portkey went off.”

 

Lucius nodded and touched his shoulder before the three of them climbed into a lift.

 

“Did you feel the difference in your rings?” His Father asked him.

 

Harry nodded. “I was wondering why it felt different. It burnt for a lot longer than usual.”

 

“A trial has been called.” Xerxes answered. “It’s why we waited for you in the Atrium instead of letting you arrive to the meeting room by yourself as we have taken to doing. You would have found it empty and you would have disgraced yourself and your family by turning up late to a trial hearing.”

 

“Now now, Xerxes, he wasn’t late and we weren’t expecting a trail so soon in the year so Harry wasn’t told about the differing meanings of the rings. Let us put this matter behind us and get to courtroom seven.”

 

“I had my hearing in courtroom ten.” Harry said, more for something to say after his chastisement by his future Father-in-law. It seemed to him that Xerxes was in a very bad mood and Harry didn’t want to make things worse or draw that anger onto himself any more. He wanted to make Xerxes proud, not angry with him.

 

“That was a farce.” Xerxes growled angrily. “Never before have the Lords been banned from a hearing, or even been denied the knowledge of one taking place! We were not happy, Harry, regardless of who you were, it was the principle of excluding us from an ancient practice which the Lords of the old families set up in the first place!”

 

“Fudge more than paid for his oversight.” Lucius assured them both. “I made sure to stress to him that the next time he tries to pull such a stunt that it might cost him his job.”

 

“I bet he didn’t like that.” Xerxes chuckled, lightening up a little, causing Harry to relax slightly.

 

“Of course not.” Lucius replied with a smirk. “It pulled him back into line though. It seemed to me like he was getting ideas above his station.”

 

“But…he’s the Minister.” Harry said with a frown. “What higher station is there?”

 

Xerxes and Lucius looked at him and then each other, as if to say ‘isn’t he just adorable?’ and Harry scowled.

 

“Harry, dear one, who do you think controls the Minister?”

 

Harry pulled a face and then remembered Lucius’ lessons on implanting information and using bribery and coercion to get what one wanted from others without their knowledge. “You?” He asked Lucius.

 

His Father smiled and patted his shoulder. “Someone has to control him. We of noble blood take the backseat and rule from behind, Harry. The public don’t know that we rule, they see Fudge leading them, so anything that goes wrong, and it does because I orchestrate things that way, they blame Fudge and he takes all the heat and scorn for it.”

 

“So, you’re making him do things that you want him to do, without him knowing, or the public knowing, so that when things go wrong, which they do, he gets the blame and not you?” Harry asked.

 

Lucius and Xerxes nodded. Harry nodded his own understanding.

 

“Okay. I take it that he prefers bribes then?”

 

“Bribes in the form of charitable donations, yes.” Lucius answered. “It makes him look good because he can be seen giving more gold to these different organisations, so it keeps him in the publics favour. Of course I only donate to the causes I believe in.”

 

Harry sighed, but said nothing more as they arrived in a corridor that was thronged with people. He made a mental note to watch Lucius interact with Fudge more closely, hoping to pick up on a few tips. He needed to start practising on his school peers too. He was going to start small and simple to begin with and then gradually move up. He wanted to one day be as good, if not surpass, Lucius’ level of manipulation and control.

 

“Stay close.” Lucius told him, touching his elbow protectively.

 

They milled around for a little while, greeting and making small talk with the other Lords and Heads of Departments, until a chime sounded and everyone neatened themselves into lines and filed into the courtroom in an orderly fashion.

 

“Who are they?” Harry asked softly. “They aren’t members of the Wizengamot.”

 

“They’re members of the Council of Magical Law.” Lucius answered. “Some on the Council are also Wizengamot members, like Amelia Bones, but some are not, so you won’t have met them before…but you may have seen most of them from your hearing. It was conducted only by the Council of Magical Law, and not by both the Council and Wizengamot.”

 

“A thing which is unheard of, as the Wizengamot is superior to the Council.” Xerxes added as they took three seats in the half circular stone benches centred on one wooden chair with chains wrapped around the arms.

 

Harry shivered as he stared at it, remembering sitting in that chair and the chains rattling menacingly…he had been relieved at that time that the chains had not bound his arms to the chair.

Two comforting hands touched his knees at almost the same time and Harry relaxed, smiling gratefully at his Father and Father-in-law, who had sandwiched him between them, as per usual.

The man in front of them turned to greet them and Harry smiled wider, greeting Dawson Shacklebolt politely and respectfully.

He actually liked the Lord Shacklebolt, as he had liked Kingsley, his Nephew, too. It was just a shame that Kingsley was so close to Dumbledore in his Order and had stopped supporting him because he wouldn’t support Dumbledore blindly like the rest of them.

 

“Lord Potter-Black. You’re looking very well, radiant even, would it perhaps have something to do with that ring on your finger?”

 

Harry looked automatically to his left hand and his smile morphed into a grin.

 

“Yes, I believe it does.” Harry answered. “I got engaged on the first. I’m very happy.”

  

“Who is the lucky one?” Dawson asked.

 

Harry smiled and looked left to Lucius and then right to Xerxes.

 

“Can I assume that it has something to do with your family, Lord Lestrange?”

 

“You can assume all you like, but whether you get the correct answer is yet to be seen.” Xerxes replied stonily.

 

Dawson inclined his head respectfully and aware that he’d crossed a line, he turned back to face the front.

 

“What trial is this?” Harry asked quietly. “I thought we were supposed to receive all evidence before the trial.”

 

“That’s why we’re here, Harry.”

 

“But…” Harry cut himself off and thought about what he wanted to say first, instead of blurting everything out in a jumble of words. “I assumed that we’d be receiving the evidence in the meeting room and debating it there and that we’d only come to the actual courtroom to hear the accused’s testimony.”

 

“No, all proceedings of a trial have to be held in a courtroom.” Lucius told him patiently, taking the time needed to actually teach him. “The evidence will go straight from this courtroom into a sealed evidence room at the end of this hallway and vice versa. The evidence isn’t allowed to travel too far from the sealed room, there would be too much of an opportunity of tampering and then the evidence could be called into questioning and the trial might very well fall through and a criminal might walk free.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding, it made a lot of sense to do things that way, to preserve as much of the evidence as possible without any hope of tampering with it.

 

“Is it Umbridge?” He asked tensely.

 

“No. You wouldn’t be allowed in the trial as you’d be a witness.” Lucius told him patiently. “I believe this is the bumbling drunkard who thought it a good idea to send off blasting hexes in Muggle Kent. The one you voted to be brought before the full court and face Azkaban.”

 

“Ah.” Harry said. “I remember, he should face Azkaban for what he did. I wasn’t expecting such a quick turnaround, especially when Umbridge hasn’t had a trial yet. It’s only been a month.”

 

“She’s still in a holding cell while Magical Law Enforcers gather the evidence against her.” Xerxes told him. “Her offence was more grave than shouting out about the magical world, she injured children at a school. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was another year before we were called to her trial. The MLEs are going to make sure that they have every single scrap of evidence they can gather before bringing her to court.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding, just as they were called to order by the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Harry smiled sickly sweetly at him when he caught the Minister’s eye and he watched as the man who had been trying to have him expelled and had, until very recently, tried to slander him in the media and tried to make him out to be a delusional little boy who liked attention went very, very pale.

Fudge blanched and quickly looked away from him. Harry chuckled and on either side of him, Xerxes and Lucius chuckled too, having caught the exchange.

 

“The members of the esteemed Wizengamot have voted to have a matter brought to trial and today we will look at the evidence collected from the alleged crime committed.” Fudge called out loudly as with a wave of his wand a hundred or so folders floated out and hovered in front of each member of the Council of Magical Law and the Wizengamot.

 

Lucius and Xerxes both turned to the first page, so Harry emulated them and did the same and he quietly read the first page, detailing the background of the offence, how Mister Dennis Jute had downed three glasses of vintage Firewhiskey before glugging straight from the bottle before doing the same to a second bottle.

Harry read through the folder, rustling sheets of parchment as the report went on to detail how Dennis Jute had gone out into the Muggle world and started stumbling about, talking loudly about dragons, telling the Muggles where the reserve in England was located even, before he started talking about magic and swaying along the streets and that was when he’d started firing off blasting hexes.

He’d injured two innocent Muggles, destroyed six cars, numerous buildings and even the road he’d been staggering down.

The senior Obliviator on the scene that day had given a statement of what she had seen and the damage done and the work and highly stressed environment her team had been put in and she called for the person responsible to be held accountable. It was noted on the end of the report that she would be one of the witnesses against the accused.

The next sheaf of parchment was from the Healer in charge of the two terrified Muggles who’d had to be taken to St Mungos to be healed and it documented the extent of the damage done to them both, how that damage had been healed and how long it had taken, perhaps the worst though had been the lingering psychological trauma that had been left behind in both Muggles who’d been attacked. They’d been Obliviated as soon as they’d been healed and released, but the Healer had warned that they would have psychological triggers relating to the event and that they wouldn’t even know the cause of those triggers because of the powerful memory charm. Their quality of life had been significantly reduced because of this trauma and if their triggers were engaged, then they would possibly be spending the rest of their lives in a Muggle mental hospital to treat the damage with no apparent cause. It was utterly galling.

Harry turned to the next sheaf of parchment and read the account of the first Magical Law Enforcer on the scene, who detailed the utter destruction done to the several streets that Mister Jute had managed to wander and the statement from one of the first to apprehend Mister Jute, who had claimed in his drunken state that he was ‘cleansing’ the world for future generations of magical children.

On the next page, Harry was surprised to find a complete, full statement, which had been made by himself, in the Wizengamot meeting hall a month ago, outlining his view on the matter and the punishment that he believed fit the crime that had been committed. A note at the bottom of his statement clinically specified that the Wizengamot members had declared in favour of Lord Harry James Potter-Black’s proposed punishment forty-one members to a mere eleven who opposed him.

The last page was an overview, detailing the laws that had been broken, how serious a breach of the Statute of Secrecy there had been and where the law stood on the breaking of said laws and Statutes…if Mister Dennis Jute was found guilty, he would be going to Azkaban for his crimes. He, Harry, would have sent someone to those soul sucking monsters.

Harry took a deep breath and calmed himself. Dennis Jute was guilty. He had done those terrible things to those who could neither defend themselves, nor had any clue what was going on or what they were seeing and as he’d said in the Wizengamot meeting, he would not allow inebriation to become an excuse for a witch or wizard’s actions. Mister Jute should have had more sense than to guzzle two bottles of vintage Firewhiskey, which was an incredibly potent drink from what Rabastan had told him when Harry had shared his Wizengamot meeting with him. A wizard who had that little sense had no business running amok in the Muggle world and he needed to pay for his crimes. In the meantime, Harry would work on his proposal for the permanent removal of the Dementors. It couldn’t be rushed, he had to present it in such a way that the other members of the Wizengamot started to believe the same as he did. It had to be planned down to the letter, right down to the very tone of voice he used while outlining his proposal. He had to get fifty or so other people to believe that the Dementors were a serious danger to them and their world as well as the Muggles too. He had to get them behind him and his way of thinking and that was going to be difficult enough without rushing it and overlooking something important that could be used against him in a debate and ruin his entire proposal. He had to think of every single angle himself and that was proving almost impossible as no one else, not even his family, were taking him or his concerns, not even his cold, factual research, seriously and thus they weren’t any sort of help to him. He was on his own with his idea and his plans, so he had to go that much slower.

Once everyone had finished reading the folder and had closed it on their laps to show that they had finished, Fudge once again spoke to them.

 

“Members of the court that serve the wizarding public, the Wizengamot have voted on this crime and have declared the accused fit for Azkaban. I have reviewed this matter myself and all material included and I suggest a ten year sentence to Azkaban for the accused, Mister Dennis Jute, with a chance of parole after serving a minimum of six years.”

 

“Yes, _he_ suggests. He should be giving you more credit, Lucius.” Xerxes whispered under his breath. Harry could only hear him because he was sat right between the two men, though he pretended not to have heard a thing.

 

“Indeed.” Lucius replied. “You forget, Xerxes. All I did was advise him on the correct imprisonment term for this sort of offence.”

 

“You did, and then you inflated it by several years.” Xerxes chortled.

 

Lucius smirked nastily and chuckled himself. “That Mudblood should be lucky I couldn’t get away with giving him a life sentence.”

 

Harry cleared his throat angrily, staring straight ahead, but his body had gone tense and he felt like the merest touch would send him flying at someone’s throat. The warmth of the anger settled deep in his belly, as it always did when he heard that dreadful word. He had to do something about that too…especially in schools. Perhaps an automatic loss of points and a couple of night’s worth of detention for anyone who dared use that filthy word. It was disgusting, degrading and discriminatory and those with the power to do so needed to be doing much more to put an end to that sort of verbal prejudice. There was name calling and then there was _name calling_. Differences such as Draco calling Hermione a beaver and then calling her a Mudblood. Harry had been guilty of the former, calling Draco a ferret for instance, but he had never, nor would he ever, single someone out purely because of their blood status, skin colour, ethnicity or sexuality. It was disgraceful behaviour.

 

“I apologise, Harry. I should not have used such a politically incorrect word in your presence nor in this courtroom.”

 

Harry nodded his head tightly to show that he’d heard, but said no more as Fudge droned on and on about the breakdown of the sentence and how many years were being given for what offence bearing on the severity of the crime committed. Lucius really had worked it all out really well if he’d managed to inflate the sentence by several years and have the sentence of ten years work out perfectly when broken down in this way.

 

“This is ridiculous!” One member of the room burst out furiously. “We cannot, in good conscience, sentence a man to ten years in Azkaban for drinking!”

 

“He wasn’t just drinking though, was he?” Harry burst out angrily, his temper already riled because of Lucius’ ‘Mudblood’ comment. “No, he was meandering his way up a Muggle street, sending off blasting hexes left and right, with no concern for the damage that he was doing, the people that he was hurting nor the exposure he was creating! He could have killed several people with his little _stunt_!”

 

“He didn’t kill anyone!” Someone else burst out just as angrily.

 

“Ah, but he could have!” Harry bit out icily, daring anyone to correct him or to argue with him. “A blasting hex through a window could have killed any number of people, a blasting hex to a car could have caused it to explode, putting more lives in danger! We shouldn’t have to wait for the loss of innocent lives to act on this matter. I fully believe that it was his intention to go out and kill as many Muggles as possible that night.”

 

“How can you even think to say that in this court with no proof?!”

 

“Your _proof_ is in this very report, or did you not bother to read it?” Harry demanded. “On page five, paragraph six it was documented by the Magical Law Enforcer who apprehended Mister Jute that he was reported to have said that he was ‘cleansing’ the world for future magical generations. What do _you_ take this to mean when he was in a Muggle area, filled with Muggles that he was firing blasting hexes at?!”

 

“It was just drunken ramblings!” A woman cut across him. “He is a Muggleborn wizard who happened to have a bit too much to drink! He never killed anyone and I don’t think it was ever his intention to hurt anyone.”

 

“On the contrary, I believe that if he hadn’t drunk quite so much then his aim would have been that much better and we might have been looking at countless dead instead of two injured.” Harry put in calmly. “He was so inebriated that he couldn’t walk in a straight line and he was firing off blasting hexes, not tickling charms. If he didn’t mean to harm anyone, then why choose the blasting hex?”

 

“Lord Potter-Black raises a very important issue.” Lord Shacklebolt put in. “Why did Mister Jute choose the blasting hex if he never meant any harm to anyone?”

 

“He was drunk!” One man shouted out.

 

“He was aware and sober enough to say the incantation and perform the wand movement required for such a hex.” Harry replied softly. “So I ask again, if he meant no harm, why the blasting hex? Which has to be said is really quite complex for an inebriated man to perform. Why not choose something simpler and less deadly than a blasting hex?”

 

“He was off of his face, boy! Who knows why he chose that hex?! He likely doesn’t even know himself!”

 

“You will refer to me as Lord Potter-Black at all times, not boy. I will not be disrespected in such a way.” Harry insisted arrogantly, making the council member flush horribly for his political oversight. “Alcohol does not excuse him from his actions. He did use the blasting hex, he did cause a severe amount of damage, he did injure two people and he posed a huge risk to Muggle lives. He was drunk, yes, but he was also apprehended claiming that he was cleansing the world for future magical generations. If we let him go with nothing more severe than a fine and a slap on the wrist then there is every possibility of this happening yet again, and this time we might not be looking at two injured but numerous dead. I for one do not want that on _my_ conscience. So yes, I want to see Mister Jute locked away where he cannot do anymore harm to the poor, defenceless Muggles, nor to the Statute of Secrecy. Ten years in Azkaban and a chance of parole after serving six years is the price he has to pay for his heinous actions and the large threat that he poses to us and to the Muggles.”

 

Harry sat back more comfortably and as one, Lucius and Xerxes placed a hand on each of his knees in silent support and comfort.

 

“We have already had to up the anti-Muggle jinxes on the English Dragon Reserve because of the leaked information.” One wizard said gravely. “Such jinxes take considerable power to cover such a large area and to keep it completely concealed. The Dragon Handlers are beside themselves that their dragons have been put at risk by one thoughtless man. They want assurances that this won’t happen again and that the perpetrator will be held accountable.”

 

“Who cares what the lowly dragon handlers think?!” One Lord sneered.

 

“I do, for one.” Harry said immediately, being drawn right back into the debate, thinking of Charlie Weasley and Norbert and the four dragons that had been brought over for the Tri-wizard tournament. Charlie had been beside himself that they were using dragons for sport in the tournament and he’d been livid that Krum had caused such damage to the clutch of eggs of his selected dragon. He had ranted for days afterwards, Harry recalled fondly. He’d actually liked Charlie, despite only seeing him a few times. “What would you do if a dragon got loose in the Muggle world? Say a dragon just flies right over the length of the British Isles, how do you handle that sort of exposure? How do you track down every single Muggle who happened to see a real, fire breathing dragon flying through the sky? Or for that matter how do you track down all of those who used a camera to take a picture of it, a picture which would then be plastered all over the Muggle world? Like it or not, the Dragon Handlers do a thankless service to our world through their love and passion for caring for the dragons and keeping them happy and healthy on Ministry approved reserves. We need the Dragon Handlers and the reserves to remain a secret for the health of the dragons and the safety of us and the Muggles.”

 

There was silence in the courtroom for a long while after Harry had stopped talking and Harry revelled in the knowledge that he’d left these people speechless, even momentarily. It was a good, powerful feeling and he enjoyed it.

Things continued back and forth until midday, when they took a break for lunch and Xerxes and Lucius took him to the bank of fireplaces in the Atrium and through the floo to Lestrange Manor, where Xerxes had invited them for lunch.

 

“Elf! Go and get Rabastan.” Xerxes called out and Harry was so horrified he couldn’t even say anything for a handful of minutes.

 

“Is that its name?” Harry asked stiffly.

 

Xerxes shot him a look. “That’s right, you’re all for house elves aren’t you? If it did have a name I’ve long since forgotten it. Why don’t you ask it?”

 

The bedraggled, beaten down elf appeared again to bow to Xerxes and tell him that he’d done as asked.

 

“Good, drinks and a light lunch for all of us. Now!”

 

Before Harry could ask it about its name, it was gone again with another bow that had its nose touching the wooden floor. It reminded him of Dobby and his temper, already being strained by the Wizengamot debates, flared.

Before Harry could say anything Rabastan came tearing into the room faster than Harry had ever seen him move before and he had almost bowled him over in a huge bear hug.

Harry laughed happily as he threw his arms around Rabastan’s neck and got distracted with the kisses being rained over his lips.

 

“Oh, excuse us, we’ll all just leave shall we?” Rodolphus’ snarky comment burst through Harry’s happy fog.

 

“Would you?” Harry asked cheekily.

 

“No.” Lucius replied sternly.

 

“I’ve missed you so much.” Harry told Rabastan instead of answering, still holding tight to Rabastan.

 

“I miss you more now that we’re engaged, I can’t reason it out.”

 

“I feel the same way.” Harry laughed. “It seems more real, more permanent now that we’re engaged over just being betrothed and I miss you so much more.”

 

“Let us reconvene in the dining room, lunch will be served soon and there’s much to discuss about the Wizengamot meeting.”

 

“I want to hear all about it.” Rabastan told him interestedly and Harry allowed himself to be led to the dining room of Lestrange manor for a quick lunch before he was forced back to courtroom seven and to a trial that he had helped set up and bring about a month earlier.

 

Harry sat next to Rabastan and they ducked their hands under the table and laced their fingers together like sweetheart teenagers.

 

“What is the meeting about this time?” Rodolphus asked.

 

“It’s the set up for the trial of that Mud…Muggleborn, who went on that traipse through the Muggle world firing off blasting hexes.” Xerxes only just managed to cut off the word ‘Mudblood’ after remembering how Harry had reacted in the courtroom.

 

“A shame he didn’t manage to kill any of them.” Rodolphus said seriously.

 

“Excuse me!” Harry puffed up angrily. “They’re innocent people!”

 

Rodolphus sneered at him.

 

“Dolphus.” Rabastan said warningly.

 

“Going soft on me now, Basti? After all we’ve done together.” Rodolphus demanded. “You go and get engaged and suddenly you’re all for Muggles and house elf rights.”

 

“I’m not going soft.” Rabastan said angrily. “I hate Muggles as much as you do and Harry understands that about me, but to respect him in return, I will not speak of it in such blatant terms in front of him and if my stopping the obvious hate I have for Muggles, Muggleborns and house elves makes Harry more comfortable, I’ll do just that.”

 

Harry beamed at him like a love sick fool, but he couldn’t help it and he squeezed Rabastan’s hand happily.

 

“What’s the house elf’s name here?” He asked.

 

“It has a name?” Rodolphus quipped quickly.

 

“That’s what I said.” Xerxes chuckled.

 

“You two are far too alike.” Harry groused, looking to Rabastan for an answer.

 

“I have no clue what it’s called. It’s been elf since I was a small boy.”

 

Harry sighed unhappily and took a drink of water. The conversation moved on to the trial and Harry contributed very little, but he was still holding Rabastan’s hand and before he knew what he was doing, he was playing with Rabastan’s fingers, his knuckles, his palm, his wrist and his arm, smiling down as he watched his own fingers run over the skin and brush over the black hairs. Rabastan got goosebumps from his touches after only a few moments and it made Harry grin.

 

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing?” Harry was broken from his peaceful playing by Rhadamanthus’ very unwelcome voice intruding on his happiness.

 

He sighed. “I suppose it was too much to ask to have a nice, quiet lunch.” He lamented.

 

“You’re touching him under the table!” Rhadamanthus hissed. “Move seats, now!”

 

“We’re allowed to hold hands and sit next to one another!” Harry hissed back.

 

“Not until you’re engage…”

 

Harry cut Rhadamanthus off by thrusting his hand out and showing him the ring on his finger.

 

“We are engaged.” He said tartly. “You really are behind the times, we’ve been engaged for almost a month now.”

 

“You got engaged without even informing me?!” Rhadamanthus demanded, his voice dangerously low.

 

Rabastan didn’t even look at his Father as he calmly pulled Harry closer into the side of his body. Harry was the closest to Rhadamanthus and it was obvious that Rabastan didn’t like it one little bit.

 

“I was under the impression that I didn’t need to inform you.” Rabastan answered tonelessly.

 

“Did you know about this?!” Rhadamanthus demanded of Xerxes and Rodolphus, a vein throbbing on either side of his thick neck.

 

“Watch your tongue, boy!” Xerxes growled. “I am still Head of this household and you are in _my_ house!”

 

“Of course we knew.” Rodolphus said simply after a pregnant pause. “Rabastan tells me everything and as soon as he had the finished ring in his possession, he came to me for advice. He wanted to propose as soon as he had the ring in early December. He wouldn’t even let me see it before he’d given it to Harry, it was torturous waiting to see it for that long.”

 

“You had the ring before Christmas and _didn’t_ give it to me immediately?” Harry teased.

 

“I wanted to, I really did, but Rodolphus beat it into my head that we would remember the proposal for the rest of our lives. I could have done it quickly, as soon as I first saw you, but waiting made it more special.”

 

Harry sighed. “It really did, thank you.” Harry said. “And thank you too, Rodolphus for helping to make it perfect.”

 

“I will remember it forever as one of my happiest memories.” Rabastan told him.

 

Harry grinned at that but Rhadamanthus grimaced, as though he’d been forced to suck and chew on a lemon, obviously at the thought of Rabastan being even remotely happy. Harry felt a coil of icy anger surge and suddenly he wanted to slash his wand into Rhadamanthus’ face. It would be so easy, his wand was in a specialised holster strapped to his thigh, all it would take was a quick movement and his wand would be out and he could curse Rhadamanthus before the evil man could hope to react.

 

“Harry!” Lucius’ loud voice broke through his red hazed thoughts and he snapped his head around.

 

He must have been too tense or something in his body language had alerted the others at the table that he was half a breath away from attacking the Lestrange male. Lucius sounded like he’d called him more than once and as he snapped around to look at his Father, something on his face or in his eyes made the others realise that he was incredibly angry and that he _was_ half a breath away from attacking Rhadamanthus.

Lucius went to stand up, likely to remove him from the room and give him a chance to calm down under the guise of a telling off, but Rabastan got there first and he pressed their lips together hard in a passionate kiss. Harry relaxed almost immediately as those arms wrapped around him and he wrapped his arms around Rabastan’s neck.

 

“Better?” Rabastan whispered, only breaking them apart when they absolutely needed to take in a deep breath or risk passing out.

 

Harry nodded. “Yes. You always make me feel better. I couldn’t control the anger by myself.”

 

“Focus on me. He doesn’t matter.” Rabastan said a little more loudly and no one in that room had any doubts that Rhadamanthus was supposed to hear what he’d said.

 

Rhadamanthus had heard him and he reacted so predictably that Harry almost laughed at how easy it was to rile him up as one large hand tightened into a fist and his face flushed a dark red with anger. He obviously did not like that Rabastan was no longer listening or taking to heart the cruel things he was saying to him. Rhadamanthus had lost his power over Rabastan and he didn’t like it at all.

The poor house elf unfortunately took that moment to appear and serve lunch, minus Rhadamanthus’.

 

“You disgusting little wretch!” Rhadamanthus spat, kicking the poor elf flying.

 

Harry was up in a shot, before Rabastan or anyone else could stop him, and he was cradling the poor injured elf in his own lap.

 

“Get out.” Harry ordered Rhadamanthus, glaring at him and panting like he’d run a marathon. “NOW!” He yelled when Rhadamanthus didn’t move.

 

“You heard the boy. Get out.” Xerxes ordered firmly, standing up and towering over his son.

 

“It’s a house elf!” Rhadamanthus argued incredulously.

 

“Don’t make me remove you myself…not again.” Xerxes warned seriously.

 

Rhadamanthus went near purple with anger and frustration, but he stormed out of the dining room, to go where, Harry didn’t frankly care as long as it was as far away from him as possible.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked the elf in his lap.

 

“Young Master must not concern himself….”

 

“I already have concerned myself.” Harry replied firmly. “What is your name?”

 

The elf squeaked and looked to be on the verge of not answering…only Harry was now an official member of the Lestrange family. He was the Fiancé of Rabastan, that made him part Lestrange and the elf couldn’t ignore him or anything he asked.

 

“I is being called Torey, young Master.”

 

“Alright, Torey. Are you injured?” Harry asked gently.

 

“No, young Master.”

 

Harry nodded. “Are you sure?”

 

Torey nodded his large head, his massive ears flapping and Harry helped him to stand. He teetered for a moment, mostly because his brown eyes were obscured by unshed tears at Harry’s kindness, before he vanished and Harry stood, dusted himself down and sat himself next to Rabastan as though nothing had happened.

 

“That was completely bizarre and uncomfortable to watch.” Rodolphus shook his head as if trying to shake out the offending memories.

 

“Let us just eat lunch, we need to leave soon. The trial preparation will be commencing in just half an hour.” Xerxes replied.

 

Harry went back to holding Rabastan’s hand and eating his lunch. He needed to absorb as much of Rabastan’s presence as he possibly could. This was a rare thing indeed, being able to see him during term time and he was going to make the most of it.

They finished their lunches quickly and Harry watched as Rabastan and Rodolphus both knocked back a cocktail of different coloured and different dosages of potions before they each drained a full pint of water, the only sign that the potions they’d taken were utterly foul.

 

“I made an appointment for your Healer visit, Harry.” Lucius told him and Harry groaned.

 

He’d been putting that appointment off for months now and it seemed that Lucius had finally gotten fed up of his lame excuses and booked him in without consulting him.

 

“It will be fine.” Rabastan told him. “You need to get healthy, like I do.”

 

Harry sighed, because really what could he actually say to that now? He could hardly kick up a fuss about a mere Healer visit when Rabastan and Rodolphus were following a diet that was so strict they couldn’t even deviate from their set meal plans, they had to eat every single last bite even if they didn’t want to and they had to eat at exactly the same time every day and that wasn’t including the just as strict, rigorous exercise plan they also had to adhere to or the vast collection of potions they had to take daily.

 

“When is it?” He asked, trying not to sound as fucked off as he actually was.

 

“This weekend.” Lucius told him.

 

“Not Saturday?” Harry asked quickly.

 

“Would it be a problem if it was?”

 

“Yes!” Harry said in utter frustration.

 

“If this is because of Quidditch I’ll…”

 

“It’s not!” Harry cut in. “That’s the day that Marcus is coming to give me tutoring. It’ll be two full hours on Saturday afternoon, and I already have to try and fit in all my other homework around it too.”

 

“Lucky for you then that the appointment is Sunday.” Lucius replied calmly.

 

Harry went to keep on ranting, but those words cut in and he cocked his head slightly.

 

“Sunday?” He questioned.

 

“Sunday morning, at nine sharp.” Lucius replied.

 

Harry nodded his head and relaxed his shoulders. “Okay then. I can work with Sunday.”

 

Rabastan had gone quiet and red faced, angry red faced. Harry frowned at him.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

 

“You never said you were actually going through with that tutoring.”

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Yes I did. Of course I was serious about it, Rabastan. I need all the help I can get, I’m three years behind everyone else!”

 

“From the bastard who tried to take you away from me! The one who actually kissed you.”

 

Harry made an annoyed scoffing noise. “Need I remind you that it was your fault that we were in that situation in the first place? You kept pushing me at other men, so I showed you what it was like if I went off with another man. There was nothing between us, not even a spark of attraction as I suspect that Marcus is completely straight. He only kissed me to get you to react and you did…without even mentioning that he kissed my cheek. Do not start on this again, Rabastan, it’s getting very old.”

 

“I believe that’s our cue to leave.” Xerxes said firmly.

 

Harry shook his head “No. If I leave now, then nothing will get sorted and these feelings will fester and drive a wedge between us.”

 

No one said anything and Rabastan was breathing deeply, as if to calm himself down. Harry didn’t have the luxury of time, however. He was needed back at the courtroom and then back at Hogwarts.

 

“Are you really so jealous that you don’t want me to have tutoring that I really need just because it’s Marcus? What next, are you going to flip into an angry, jealous rage if my Healer on Sunday is male too? Am I not allowed male friends just because I happen to be gay? We are engaged, Rabastan, I have no idea what that means to you, but to me it was a promise, a commitment to one another and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardise that. I can’t believe that you’re doing this again! That you’re going to put us both through this again! Did I not prove my faithfulness and my purity in that little Veritaserum test of Rodolphus’? What more do you actually want from me?!” He demanded.

 

Harry shook his head as Rabastan still remained silent and he raised his left hand and he went to rip the engagement ring off of his finger to hand it back to Rabastan, but his Fiancé leapt up and covered his hand with his own, tugging the other one away from the ring.

 

“Don’t. Please don’t.” Rabastan begged him. “Don’t take it off. I love you.”

 

“You have a funny way of showing it!” Harry hissed. “Or maybe it’s not a question of not loving me, perhaps you just don’t trust me.”

 

“I do!”

 

“Then why is this a problem? If you trust me so much then why are you so worried about me having tutoring with Marcus?! What do you think I’m going to do?”

 

“Because he’s bigger than you!” Rabastan burst out.

 

Harry blinked. He opened his mouth and then closed it again and then narrowed his eyes as he clicked onto what Rabastan’s fear actually was. “You think he’s going to try and force himself on me when we’re alone, shut up in my rooms? It’s not me you don’t trust, it’s him.”

 

“Exactly!”

 

“That didn’t really seem to work for Rowle now, did it?” Harry replied nonchalantly, ignoring the sudden appearance of clenched fists and low growls around the dining room at the sound of Rowle’s name. “I can take care of myself, Rabastan. I’m not some stupid little kid or some damsel in distress who’ll lie there and wait to be rescued. I am fully capable of hurting and even killing someone who attacks me.”

 

“That’s not the point.” Rabastan said, getting very upset. “I don’t want you to go through anything like that again and inviting Flint into your rooms makes me uneasy when I can’t be there to help you.”

 

Harry sighed and looped his arms around Rabastan’s neck. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Marcus isn’t even gay or bisexual. Besides, he has a new love interest.”

 

“He does?” Rabastan asked.

 

Harry nodded. “He really likes her, but he said she’s not very feminine because her Mother died when she was really young and she doesn’t like dresses or flowers or jewellery so she’s usually overlooked by suitors.”

 

“Eleanor Fawley.” Xerxes and Lucius said together.

 

“She’s from a lesser branch of the Fawley family. Her cousin Felicity, from the main branch of the family, was matched to a highly prominent Spanish wizard of the Floros family. Matching Eleanor to the Flint family will be very welcomed by the Fawleys, who are almost extinct in the male line.” Lucius carried on.

 

“A fun fact for you, Harry.” Xerxes said with a grin. “Both the Fawleys and Floros’ are related to the Lestranges.”

 

Harry chuckled. “Nothing I wouldn’t expect.” He replied.

 

“Are you two done with your domestic dispute?” Rodolphus asked, standing up and coming to stand beside them.

 

“I believe so.” Harry nodded.

 

Rabastan nodded with him and immediately after, they each received a slap to the back of the head.

 

“That’s for being complete morons.” Rodolphus sniffed.

 

Harry grinned when the hand that had smacked the back of his head remained and ruffled his hair affectionately.

 

“Come along, Harry, or we’ll be late back to the Ministry.” Lucius insisted.

 

Harry hugged Rabastan and kissed him.

 

“I’ll see you soon and I’ll owl you right after I’ve finished the tutoring, just to put your mind at ease.” Harry said. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.” Rabastan replied, pulling him back into a tight hug. It was then that Harry realised that it had been a while since Rabastan had had a spasm and he was holding him tighter with more confidence and he grinned wider. He was almost teary as he realised that Rabastan was getting better in almost indescribable ways, but he _was_ getting better and it made him so happy.

 

Harry was forced to separate from Rabastan when Lucius cleared his throat and reminded him of the time.

 

“I have to go.” Harry said sadly. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll see you at Easter?”

 

“Of course you will. I can’t wait.”

 

“Alright, this is getting painful to watch now.” Rodolphus groused as he grabbed Harry, picked him up and handed him off to Xerxes and then took hold of Rabastan’s shoulders and steered him away.

 

Xerxes placed Harry back on the floor and laughed at his shell shocked face.

 

“Did he really just pick me up? Me, Lord Potter-Black, like some sort of miscreant peasant child?” He demanded in his best Wizengamot voice.

 

Lucius and Xerxes laughed at him and Harry grinned.

 

“Come along now, or we really will be more than acceptably late.”

 

“As if it’s not going to be more of the same.” Harry huffed. “I’d rather talk about these little meetings that Dumbledore wants us to have together.”  

 

“I consulted a few people and sent you an owl back, had I known this meeting was coming so quickly, I would have held off and handed it to you directly. But I don’t think these meetings will be an entirely bad thing.” Lucius concluded.

 

“You don’t? I thought they’d be horrible and potentially dangerous.”

 

“They might well be, but it could prove to be very… _informative_.”

 

Harry clicked then and a surge of hot anger flared as he realised that Lucius had consulted Voldemort on these meetings and that he was being used as a spy.

 

“What if he curses me?” Harry demanded tightly, through gritted teeth.

 

“I know you, Harry.” Lucius said. “You’re my son now and I have the power to have you checked by specialist Healers at any moment without your permission as you are a minor in my care. It was how I was able to set up a Healer appointment this weekend without your knowledge or consent. If he dares curse you or dose you with anything, I’ll have him in prison before he can say ‘it was for the greater good’.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry took a deep breath and let it out. He’d see what these stupid meetings were about first and then he’d decide what he wanted to do. Just because Voldemort wanted him to spy on Dumbledore, did not mean that he had to tell anyone what information he’d found out in these so called ‘truce’ meetings. Not if he didn’t want to.

He sighed, letting out all the air from his deep breath and he calmed himself. He didn’t have to help anyone he didn’t want to and he didn’t have to share anything. Everything would work out fine and if it didn’t, he hoped that he’d be protected from the backlash, either by Lucius, by Rabastan or by himself.

His schedule was going to be really jam packed…if he had to put tutoring from Marcus, Healer visits and now Dumbledore’s meetings on top of all of his homework, his Wizengamot duties and Quidditch too, something was going to have to give sooner or later. At least now he didn’t have betrothal duties to attend too as well with his recent engagement to Rabastan, he really wouldn’t have been able to juggle in that as well.

He was going to have to start making a planned schedule for himself, like Hermione had used to do for her exam revision. Though he couldn’t really plan around the Wizengamot meetings as they all seemed to be very random and unplanned. Maybe he could put forward a bill or something to change that, so that the schedule was as planned and structured as much as possible with the exception of the emergency meetings, but there was no reason why trials and normal meetings couldn’t be planned in advanced or held at the same time every month. It would make things so much easier if he could plan around them.

The three of them made it back to courtroom seven and Harry gracefully sat himself back down. He was not looking forward to another several hours of debating back and forth over an issue that was so very clear to him now that the new, additional information had been revealed in the trial report. Mister Dennis Jute, Muggleborn he might be, but he had a chip on his shoulder from something to do with the Muggles and Harry was certain that he had meant to kill as many Muggles as possible on that night…he was not going to allow the full court of the wizarding world to let this man off of the ten year sentence to Azkaban. It was no less than the drunken brute deserved and Harry would not allow him to escape justice.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A day late, but the read through for this chapter took a lot longer than usual as it is a very large chapter, but I was too busy yesterday to get it done, so it’s up today instead.  
> We have another chapter next week too, from the looks of things it’ll be chapter 3 of Tainted Blood, but those on Facebook will know more as it gets closer to the actual update day.  
> I hope you lovelies have all enjoyed this chapter, if you’re not reading any of my other works, then this will be my last chapter for a while. I’m taking the whole of November off for a break and I won’t be back until the New Year for this story I think, so I’ll see you lovelies then,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	13. Health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
>  
> 
> The three of them made it back to courtroom seven and Harry gracefully sat himself back down. He was not looking forward to another several hours of debating back and forth over an issue that was so very clear to him now that the new, additional information had been revealed in the trial report. Mister Dennis Jute, Muggleborn he might be, but he had a chip on his shoulder from something to do with the Muggles and Harry was certain that he had meant to kill as many Muggles as possible on that night…he was not going to allow the full court of the wizarding world to let this man off of the ten year sentence to Azkaban. It was no less than the drunken brute deserved and Harry would not allow him to escape justice.

 

 

Chapter Thirteen - Health

 

Harry had spent the next few days just recovering from the all day trial as those on the Council of Magical Law had argued against the Wizengamot’s decision to sentence this man, Dennis Jute, to Azkaban. As had been pointed out several times, the Wizengamot was superior to the Council of Magical Law and their sentence was final and was not the issue in the courtroom. The meeting had descended into chaos and had only ended once members had started complaining of the very late hour and still nothing had gotten done because of the pointless arguing. Harry hoped that before he had to go back, Fudge called the Council of Magical Law into order. They had no right to oppose or question the decision of the Wizengamot.

Harry had come back late to Hogwarts, after curfew late, and he had had to almost scream at Filch that he was Lord Potter-Black and that he had only just gotten back to Hogwarts after flooing into Professor McGonagall’s office. He had explained as patiently as he could, that he had been at a Wizengamot meeting that had only in the last hour finished, but it hadn’t worked and Filch had demanded that Harry be written up for detention. That had been when Harry had started losing control of his already frayed temper. He had stomped his way to his rooms, after losing Filch first of course, as he refused to follow the man back to his office to be written up like a delinquent and had, in no uncertain terms, told the man that if he laid a single finger on him then he’d have him fired and locked up. After being gone the entire day, Harry had finally gotten back to his rooms, but he was in an absolutely foul mood thanks to the actual trial meeting and his run in with Filch.

Once safely locked inside his private rooms he’d stripped off his robes and sluggishly pulled on his pyjamas. He knew he should have started his homework then and there, but he had been far too tired, so instead he’d just curled up in his bed and he’d gone almost straight to sleep after the incredibly long day locked up in the dungeon like courtroom seven.

Now he was paying for it, especially as Draco and Blaise had gleefully dumped a load of assignments on him that morning at breakfast, on top of those that he already had to do, and they both refused to help him stating haughtily that they were too busy. Blaise was on the hunt for a new conquest, his Ravenclaw was no longer keeping his interest and was talking about their long term future, something which Blaise wouldn’t allow and Draco was going to spend some time with Astoria. It did not help Harry’s sinking mood that from one until three in the afternoon today he had to take Ancient Runes tutoring from Marcus. He had too much to do and very little time in which to do it in.

Harry rubbed his forehead and went back to his Transfiguration homework, one of the hardest assignments that he had for one of the hardest subjects. He didn’t understand half of it and he knew that he had to go to Professor McGonagall to ask her for some help. He just didn’t want to take the time it would take when he knew that he had a mountain of homework still to do.

Sighing and biting the proverbial bullet, he plucked up his Transfiguration books and his homework assignments, shoved them all into his satchel and left his rooms, closing the door securely behind him. If he was quick and he picked up this theory easily enough then he might be able to do a few more assignments before Marcus came to tutor him. He didn’t really relish the thought of being awake past midnight tonight still doing homework.

He made his way down the corridors and up three flights of stairs to get to the seventh floor and he wandered the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. He stopped just before he reached the Fat Lady’s portrait, at Professor McGonagall’s office. He knocked firmly on the door and he waited, hoping that she was even there. He did not have the time to hunt the Professor down all over the castle for one piece of homework when he had a dozen more assignments that needed his attention too.

 

“Enter.” The stern voice he knew so well called out from inside and he breathed a sigh of relief that she was here before he straightened and smartened himself up and did as asked, stepping into the office. “Ah, Potter, just the boy I wanted to speak to.”

 

Harry ducked his head in a small bow as a show of respect. “Sorry to bother you, Professor. I just wanted to ask you about the work that I missed yesterday, I’m afraid I just don’t understand it.”

 

“Mister Filch came to see me about you being out after curfew and that you refused to be written up for detention.” McGonagall said disapprovingly. “You have your own rooms, but that does not mean that you can be out after curfew, you need to adhere to the same rules as everyone else, Potter.”

 

“Professor, as I told Mister Filch at the time, I’d only just gotten back from the Wizengamot meeting. It went on for almost the entire day and it was only called to a halt when some members started to complain about how late it was getting. I went straight to my rooms from this office, which I used to floo back into the school. My being out after the curfew wasn’t preventable and I don’t believe it requires a term of detention as it couldn’t have been helped. Unless, of course, I’d stayed at home overnight and had come back early this morning, but I wanted to start on my remaining homework as soon as possible, so I elected to return to the school last night.”

 

McGonagall stared at him for several moments and then she nodded her head once. “What was this about an assignment that you don’t understand?”

 

Harry smiled and got his work out of his bag and handed it over. He spent the next hour listening to his Professor lecture and teach him what he’d missed during his unavoidable absence. He learnt a lot more in a one-to-one setting it seemed and that gave him hope for his tutoring from Marcus, maybe it wasn’t going to be so awful after all and at least he already knew that his Transfiguration homework was going to be top notch, after all, it couldn’t possibly be anything else under the personal tutelage of Professor McGonagall.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was nervous as he waited with all of his Ancient Runes books, all of his homework assignments for that year and what marks he’d gotten and spare parchment and ink. He even had a set of cubes that each had a rune carved into the front of it, the pronunciation of said rune was on the bottom that could be tapped with a wand which then revealed the translation. They had belonged to Draco as a small child to help him learn his runes before he came to Hogwarts, but Harry had no qualms about using them as a sixteen year old if they helped him and they did, to an extent.

He took a deep breath and then another. This was just another lesson and he was here to learn, nothing more. He shouldn’t be this bloody nervous, but ridiculously, Rabastan’s words kept coming back to him. Marcus _was_ much larger than him, he was much stronger, and he could easily hurt him without anyone knowing about it for several hours. He growled at himself and forced those thoughts away furiously. Marcus was a man now, a grown man, and he wasn’t going to hurt him. He was absolutely, one hundred percent sure of it, but still, Rabastan’s fears had his Fiancé genuinely worried and because his Fiancé was worried, he was nervous himself. It was completely ridiculous, irrational even, but he couldn’t help it.  

The door knocked and he almost jumped out of his skin before he scolded himself harshly, pulled himself together and he stood up to let Marcus into his private rooms and the older man whistled, impressed, as he looked around.

 

“You got yourself a good deal here. I had no idea that Hogwarts offered individual rooms to students or I’d have gotten one for myself. Three of my dorm mates snored terribly.” He added when he caught Harry’s questioning glace. “I spent half my time at Hogwarts trying to catch up on disrupted sleep, at least until I finally figured out the silencing ward, using Runes instead of a spell, of course.”

 

Harry laughed at the explanation, thinking fondly of his portrait of the younger Sirius. “Do you want a drink?”

 

“You can get drinks in here too? Merlin, I really wish I’d known about these rooms.”

 

Harry grinned happily and put his little tea pot on the hot plate he had to make tea with.

 

“Only water, juice or tea. I can get small snacks too. It means I don’t have to leave very often, though I do have to go down to the Great Hall for meals.”

 

Harry made them both tea and set up a plate of biscuits before he sat on the floor by his coffee table and Marcus followed his lead and eased his big, bulky body down to join him.

 

“Let’s get started then. I want to see what you’re capable of first, do you have your past assignments as I requested?”

 

Harry nodded and picked up the parchment with all his marks from Professor Babbling off of the table where he’d left them, including his extra assignments that he’d asked for, and he handed them over to Marcus to scrutinise.

He nervously waited as Marcus went through all of the sheaves of parchment, very slowly and consideringly, one by one. At least this time he was nervous of what Marcus would think of his work and his marks and not of anything happening to him.

He shakily took sip after sip of tea for something to do and he breathed evenly and deeply to calm and centre himself as he fought the urge to fidget, a phantom pain rippling through his hands as he remembered his lessons from Lucius and Narcissa. He could almost hear them chastising him, telling him that he was the Lord of two ancient esteemed houses and an adoptee of a third. He was not supposed to fidget like a small, nervous child. It almost made him smile, but he controlled the urge as he gave his undivided attention to Marcus. He wanted to prove that he deserved this tutoring from such a specialised expert, that he wasn’t going to be a waste of Marcus’ time. He needed this chance to get him back onto an even keel with his classmates and if he could surpass them, well, that would be an extra juicy bonus if he could manage it and a very proud moment for him too. His classmates did have three years learning over him after all.

 

“This is better than I was expecting.” Marcus told him some time later. “For someone who only picked up Runes this year and has had only six months of teaching and instruction, you have a very good base understanding of the subject.”

 

Harry very nearly blew out a relieved breath, but he managed to control himself and give a small, more acceptable nod of his head.

 

“I can work with this.” Marcus said simply, putting the sheaves of parchment back down on the coffee table. “You’re not completely clueless, so let’s get started.”

 

Harry listened intently and he watched everything that Marcus did, absorbing it all as best as he could and even doing all the little exercises that Marcus gave him. Finishing each one and handing over his answers to Marcus to mark and then either receiving praise or having it ripped apart and pointed out exactly where he’d gone wrong.

 

“You’ve mixed up Perthro and Kenaz, Harry.” Marcus told him, laying the parchment down and pointing out his answer.

 

Harry deflated as he blew out a frustrated breath and he looked at the two wrong answers and he thought harder about it. He took his quill up and he corrected the one right away, but the other one he had no clue. He shook his head.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“You do.” Marcus told him with no preamble. “Think!”

 

Harry bit his lip and all but glared at the parchment. Marcus gave him no help whatsoever and every time that Harry insisted that he didn’t know it, Marcus would growl back that he did and to use his fucking brain to think of it.

 

“We don’t have all fucking day!” Marcus snapped.

 

Harry grit his teeth and tried not to snap his quill in half. He was half considering throwing his bottle of ink at Marcus’ head.

He put down another rune and Marcus scoffed and swooped in to draw a thick red line through it.

 

“You know that that’s not right! Don’t just put anything down!”

 

“Then help me!” Harry growled.

 

“I am helping you! I’m not going to just give you the damn answer, think about it!”

 

“But I don’t know it!” Harry pleaded.

 

“You do.” Marcus insisted.

 

Harry frowned and bit his lip again, tapping his quill against his hand. He tentatively drew another rune and looked to Marcus, half expecting a thick red line through it.

 

“Well done.” Marcus praised him and Harry was stunned.

 

“Really? That’s right?” He asked, looking back at it and staring.

 

“Yes. Now tell me where you went wrong.”

 

“I…I didn’t think that this was the right answer because I thought my first attempt was the right one. I overlooked this rune.”

 

“It’s a very common mistake. Overlooking one rune because you’re sure it’s another. It’ll throw you off the rest of them as you head in the opposite direction to the overlooked rune. I’m surprised you got it so quickly. So what have you learnt?”

 

“That sometimes, even if I think I know the answer, I can still be wrong.”

 

“No! You’ve learnt that you knew the answer all along! Don’t waste time arguing about it, accept that you know the answer and find it.”

 

Harry nodded and he settled himself down, carrying on the exercise sheets that Marcus had taken the time to make especially for his tutoring.

 

“Wrong.” Marcus told him, scratching out the very first rune. “Do it again.”

 

Harry sighed and frowned. He frowned harder as he realised that he seemed to have made exactly the same mistake. He’d been so sure that he’d put down the correct rune. In fact, he was incredibly sure that it was the correct rune.

 

“I’m sure that that one was right.”

 

“It’s not.” Marcus said simply.

 

“I’m sure it was.”

 

Marcus raised an eyebrow and Harry scowled. He went back to his exercise and thought hard, but his mind drew a blank. He tried a few more runes, but all of them received a red mark through them.

He was more patient this time, trying out different ideas, but eventually a coil of heated anger reared its head and he started losing his temper the more Marcus drew a red line through his attempts.

 

“I’ve gone through almost all of them!” He raged. “I’m sure that the first one was right!”

 

Marcus snorted and drew a rune in red next to his many failed attempts. Harry was horrified to see that it was identical to his first attempt.

 

“I had it right the first time. I knew it!” He shouted. “Why did you mark it as wrong when it was right?!”

 

“Never second guess yourself. If you know it’s right. It probably is.” Marcus told him.

 

“I thought the other one was right too.”

 

Marcus shook his head. “No, you only _thought_ it was right because you’d overlooked the actual correct rune, you didn’t _know_ that it was. You actually argued about me correcting this rune, you knew that it was the right one, but you accepted it was wrong, not because you thought it was, but because I’m superior to you. That’s how mistakes are made and how fatalities occur. If you are working on something, never let anyone correct you. If you know it’s right, it probably is and if you’re unsure, check it yourself or you’ll end up dead.”

 

Harry blew out a breath and tried to squash the anger that had risen in him.

 

“I think we’ll leave it here. It’s half three, we went over a little bit. You’re not as terrible as I thought you’d be. I’ll have more exercises for you next week.”

 

Harry nodded his head tightly. “If anything changes, I’ll owl you. But if it’s too late, I’ll floo call you instead.”

 

Marcus nodded back as he stood up with all of his stuff. He threw a hand out and shook Harry’s own firmly.

 

“I’ll see you soon, Potter. Oh and congratulations by the way. That ring suits you.”

 

Harry looked down at his ring and smiled as Marcus shut the door to his private rooms behind him. He collapsed back onto his settee and he stayed there for several minutes, just thinking. Marcus hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d be hard and abrasive while tutoring him. Which reminded him, he needed to send a letter to Rabastan to ease his Fiancé’s frantic mind and let him know that he hadn’t been attacked and he wasn’t dead on his sitting room floor.

Clearing up all the Ancient Runes paraphernalia, Harry left his spare parchment and went into his little study room to drop everything off and collect his beautiful set of thirty different coloured inks. It was in a decorative sterling silver holder so that he could carry and display all thirty bottles at once. He’d bought it after he’d realised that writing to Rabastan in different coloured inks as he had, had really, really helped his, then betrothed, now Fiancé. It had been a pain begging for different coloured inks from Draco and Blaise, so now he had his own set that he could use.

It had, like almost everything else he’d owned, been replaced by his Father in October when his dorm mates had destroyed all of his stuff. Some of the inks had been running low, particularly the red, blue, green and black inks, and he’d been thinking of replacing them himself. He’d laughed to himself when his set had been fully replaced, all the inks coming back full and unopened, their wax seals still unbroken.

He spent the next hour and a half writing a massive letter to Rabastan, making sure to drastically change colours with every paragraph and he stretched out his cramping hand and left the letter to dry on his coffee table while he went down to the Great Hall for dinner.

His first tutoring session had gone fine, if that sort of rage inducing teaching could be called fine. Now he just had to survive weekly tutoring sessions with Marcus, he could feel a tension headache forming at both temples and he groaned. He needed a headache reliever and fast. Which did nothing to improve his mood as _that_ reminded him that tomorrow morning he had to get up early to go to Saint Mungos for a Healer check-up.

Harry looked at the ring nestled on his left hand and he brought it to his mouth so that he could kiss it. It helped him feel marginally better.

 

“I really wish that I was with you.” He whispered before moodily stabbing at his food. He was not looking forward to his Healer visit, but for Rabastan, he would endure it silently.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The next morning, at a quarter past nine in the morning, Harry found himself stripped to his new black boxer-briefs and sat on the end of an examination bed. He wasn’t cold, the room being temperature controlled with magic, but he was uncomfortable as his thin and bony body was exposed to the view of anyone and everyone who cared to look, which was quite a few people as he was seeing a whole team of Healers and not just the one.

 

“Will you stop shifting in agitation?” Lucius commanded from the chair in the large room that they were currently in.

 

“I can’t help it, I am agitated!” Harry hissed as he shifted yet again in discomfort.

 

He was nervous, and a little scared and insecure too. He’d put off this visit for so long that he’d fooled himself into thinking that it would never happen, that Lucius would just forget about it. Now that it was actually happening, he wanted it to stop. He wanted time to stand still so that he never had to put himself through this ordeal.

All too soon the head Healer of the team who would be examining him, who had left for five minutes while Harry had been undressing, knocked once on the door and entered the examination room again.

 

“Alright, Mister Potter, I’m going to start the examination now. We’ll be including all angles here, visual, physical and magical.”

 

“Just to be extra thorough.” Harry groused, evil temperedly.

 

“We, at this hospital, pride ourselves on being very thorough.” The Healer answered, obviously well used to difficult patients.

 

Harry sat still and stiff as the Healer prodded, poked and touched his bony, scarred body with his firm, sure fingers. Harry’s jaw clenched, his back locked ramrod straight and his hands were digging into the edge of the stupid bed he was sat on as he endured someone, anyone, touching his body like this. He didn’t like it at all.

 

“Your Father tells us that you’ve never had a booster inoculation for Dragon Pox.” The Healer said conversationally.

 

“I’ve never had any vaccines.” Harry bit out.

 

“Not even the standard Muggle vaccines?”

 

“No.” Harry said shortly.

 

The Healer nodded as his fingers played with the knot of scarring at his elbow.

 

“Where did this come from?” The Healer asked.

 

“Basilisk fang.” Harry answered tightly.

 

“Pardon me?” Lucius asked in a silky, deadly quiet whisper.

 

“A basilisk bit me when I was twelve and I had to yank the broken fang out of my arm.”

 

“How did you survive?” The Healer demanded.

 

“Dumbledore just happens to have a phoenix.”

 

“A basilisk should have bitten you in half.”

 

“It was trying to, I stabbed it through the roof of its mouth and into its head with a sword, but a fang stabbed into my arm while I did so.”

 

The Healer made a notation on his clipboard and then touched the scar on his left, inner forearm. It was long and straight, a couple of inches in length.

 

“Where did you get this one?”

 

Harry glared at the Healer, because he’d gotten this scar from Pettigrew in the ritual that had reborn Voldemort, but he couldn’t actually come out and say that. Not anymore.

 

“A crazed man slit my arm for me in a ritual he believed would bring back Voldemort. It’s in the same place and it’s near the same size as the Dark Mark.” He said through gritted teeth. He noticed that though Lucius winced at the Dark Lord’s name, the Healer all but jumped.

 

The Healer swallowed and nodded, before he pointed to a scar that was just barely visible on his hip.

 

“This one?” He questioned.

 

Harry looked at it and prodded at it himself.

 

“No idea. I’ve got so many that I don’t keep count and I’m not overly bothered when new ones appear.”

 

The Healer looked him over more closely and he saw what Harry meant as he noted down all of the various scars on his body on a chart of the human body he had on his clipboard.

 

“I tracked down your medical file. Not surprisingly it’s quite bare, you’re going to need quite a few injections today, Harry. We’ll do those now and get them out of the way.”

 

Harry felt sick and his whole body tensed as his heart started beating several times faster. He watched, like a deer in the headlights, as the Healer went digging in cupboards, bringing out several little bottles and packets of single needles.

The Healer injected him quickly and carefully and at the small, barely there pinch, Harry relaxed insurmountably. It didn’t hurt that badly, he didn’t need to worry about the injections. He sat calmly and stoically through the rest of the vaccines as the Healer injected him again and again, never in the same place.

 

“This is for Measles, Mumps and Rubella.” The Healer said as he switched arms and then loaded another one up. “This is for Tuberculosis.” He said as another load of vaccine went into Harry’s body, this time in the top of his leg. “And this one is for Meningitis.”

 

Harry took a deep, steadying breath when all the vaccines were done and the Healer had used several needles and disposed of them all in a bright yellow bucket.

 

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” The Healer said with a smile, even as he got out another needle and another bottle.

 

“What’s that one for?” Harry questioned curiously.

 

“Dragon Pox. This one _will_ hurt and it’ll feel like you’re burning. But if you choose not to have this vaccine and you do get Dragon Pox, then there’s nothing that we can do except to make you as comfortable as we can. You will die.”

 

“He doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” Lucius said smoothly from his chair. “He will be having the vaccine, even if I have to put him under a body binding curse in order to have it done.”

 

The Healer nodded and Harry sat very still as the needle was inserted under his skin and the vaccine was emptied into his bloodstream. It burnt terribly. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes as he waited for it to pass. It didn’t pass, it just kept burning, growing in intensity and it was slowly spreading too.

 

“There we go.” The Healer said, disposing of yet another used needle before handing him a glass almost half full of a purplish-grey potion. “Swallow this potion now, it’ll help your body to accept all of the different vaccines that you’ve just been given without making you seriously ill.”

 

Harry gulped the endless seeming potion down from the tumbler glass it had been handed over in and he grimaced, shaking his head in reflex to the vile taste. That had been twice as much potion as he’d ever been forced to drink in one go before and it was a struggle to get it down and to actually keep it down too as his stomach rebelled and clenched painfully. It made him heave to try and get the potion back out. He controlled the urge fiercely and he clamped his mouth shut, continuously swallowing to get the potion to stay down as he tried to calm his stomach.

The Healer gave him a minute or two to recover from the vaccines and the potion before he started casting spells and whatever else he was doing as Harry sat there, trying to ignore the burning pain in his arm, that was rapidly spreading down to his hand and up to his shoulder, not to mention the vile taste lingering on his tongue and his rebelling stomach.

It took hours for the team of Healers around him to be happy that they’d covered every single base that they could think of, they’d even redone the test to check for the special gene that made him a barer and they checked his fertility, and when he finally got the all clear to leave the hospital, it was with the words malnourished and brittle hanging over his head. He had almost as many potions to take as Rabastan and Rodolphus and he wasn’t happy about it.

 

“I have half a mind to pull you from the Quidditch team.” Lucius told him as he helped a lethargic, exhausted Harry back into his clothes.

 

“I want to carry on playing if I can.” Harry answered sluggishly.

 

“You have the bones of a sixty year old man.” Lucius reminded him.

 

“I know. I heard the Healers, I was there.” Harry said tonelessly. “I still want to play though and the bone potions should help rather quickly. I only have to take them for a month or two.”

 

Lucius sighed. “Narcissa is going to be beside herself with concern when she hears. We had prepared ourselves for some bad news, but not to this extent! I knew that we should have done this in the summer and not waited until now.”

 

Harry sighed and he allowed Lucius to support him with an arm around his back and under his arm as they left the hospital, walking slowly down the clinically clean corridors to the nearest waiting room which would have a floo point. He allowed Lucius to hold him tightly to his chest as they flooed back to Malfoy manor together instead of separately, like they usually would have.

After hearing how bad he actually was, Lucius was insistent on keeping him off of school for a couple of days, instead of the one night that they had originally planned, letting him go back to Hogwarts on the Monday morning. Now he was going to be at home for most of the week, if not the entire of the week and he was going to miss even more lessons. He was going to have so many catch up assignments to do when he was better.

 

“You rest now.” Lucius told him firmly, sitting him on his bed in his own bedroom and sort of hovering over him, like he was at a loss for what to do.

 

“I’m not going to break in half.” Harry said in amusement, even as his heart swelled with love at being actually, truly cared for.

 

“The Healers said that you have brittle bones!” Lucius said sternly. Again. It was like the older man couldn’t get past that bit of information, like he couldn’t process it or didn’t know what to do with it.

 

“Walking isn’t going to do any harm. Otherwise they would have broken before now.” Harry insisted.

 

Lucius sighed. “Just rest for today, you’ve been through a lot and you need to rest. For today at least.”

 

Harry nodded. “I was planning on staying on the settee in my sitting room and finishing off all that homework that’s been piling up. I told you that my tutoring ran over by half an hour. Marcus is frustrating at best, infuriating at his worst.”

 

“Did you learn from him?” Lucius asked shrewdly.

 

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he has a very unorthodox method of teaching, but I did learn a lot from him and I learnt several new ways of thinking about runes and the different ways in which they can be applied. He didn’t try to attack me either.”

 

“Ah, which reminds me, did you write to Rabastan as you said that you would?”

 

“Of course.” Harry answered as he took the letter that he’d written last night, sealed in an envelope, out of his robe pocket. “I didn’t send it off because I knew that I’d see you today and I’d hoped to see him in person too. I guess with me staying here longer than originally planned, I will get to see him, but could you please give it to him anyway? I am getting tired so I just want to sleep for a bit.”

 

Lucius inclined his head as he took the letter from him before he tucked the sealed parchment carefully into a pocket on the inside of his robes.

 

“I need to go and inform the others of what has happened, I will floo Severus and have him inform Draco that you will be staying here longer than previously thought. We all knew that you’d need several injections and that that would take it out of you, so it won’t be odd or out of place if you don’t do so in person.”

 

Harry sighed. “I promise not to move for the rest of the day. I just want to rest and at the moment go to sleep. I might get up to do some homework later, but for now I’m completely exhausted.”

 

Lucius nodded and Harry sighed again, painfully inching out of his robes with Lucius’ help before settling himself on his bed more comfortably as his Father left him alone and saw himself out, not wanting Harry to move in order to see him to the door, as proper etiquette demanded. Proper etiquette wasn’t expected in such situations when one was so unwell.

Harry laid back and pulled the duvet over himself trying desperately not to think about what he’d learnt today. He’d known that the Dursleys hadn’t treated him particularly well, but he hadn’t much thought of the long term damage. To find out that he was very malnourished and had the brittle bones of an old man at just sixteen, it had frightened him. He hadn’t expected it and knowing that the Dursleys had ruined him, even though he wasn’t under their thumb anymore, it had shocked him and he needed some alone time to take it all in.

His years of mistreatment had left his body permanently scarred, he’d already known this, but to find out that the years of missed meals and even starvation in his teens had left him malnourished, like he’d been living in poverty, and with the bones of a sixty year old. That he hadn’t known about, all the unknown, unseen damage that had been done to him over the last fifteen years.

It scared him to think that he might never have known about it, that it might never have been rectified and that right now, he could still be in their care, living at Privet Drive, which would have only made the damage worse.

Harry breathed deeply and he pushed it from his mind for the time being. He’d had injections, he’d swallowed several, absolutely disgusting potions already and he had a couple months’ worth of potions to take now and he would hopefully be completely fit and healthy by the summer. He didn’t want to think on it any longer, he wanted to rest and get some much needed sleep and he needed to take some time to absorb this information. It had come as a huge, nasty shock to him.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Lucius was in a foul mood as he made his way back down the wide stairs of his home. He strode through the hallways and he went straight to the family parlour, where his Wife was entertaining their three guests. With the Aurors in disgrace with the Minister for Magic and being removed from staking out his home, the three Lestranges were allowed to visit once again, and they were here waiting for news on Harry’s hospital visit.

 

“How did things go?” Narcissa asked as soon as he arrived into the room, standing to greet him with a kiss.

 

Lucius kissed her back and he sighed. “It was worse than we were expecting.” He said quietly, sitting in a seat and greeting their guests with a short nod.

 

“How much worse?” Rabastan asked in concern. “Where is Harry? I thought that you were bringing him back.”

 

“He is in his bed sleeping as he’s exhausted. It is much worse than we previously feared.” Lucius sighed as he absentmindedly took Harry’s letter from inside his robes and handed it over.

 

He called for a house elf and got himself a drink of Firewhiskey, just to settle himself after the news that he’d had to listen to.

 

“Lucius, do not keep such things from me. Harry is _our_ son, not just yours. Tell me.” Narcissa said with a hard stare.

 

“Those Muggles must have tortured him. This is the first time that I’ve seen his body bared in such harsh, clinical lighting and he is covered in scars.”

 

“Scars?” Narcissa gasped. “He’s a sixteen year old boy!”

 

“There are hundreds of them and they cover him from head to foot. There isn’t an inch of skin without a scar on it from something or other and Harry has become so numb to such behaviours that he doesn’t know where most of them have come from.” Lucius sighed, sipping some more Firewhiskey.

 

“I get the feeling that that isn’t all.” Xerxes said with a bite of anger to his voice.

 

“He’s very malnourished. The Healer said that it was as if Harry had been living in childhood poverty.”

 

“Did Harry shed any light as to why that was?” Narcissa demanded.

 

“Remember his first letter, dear. He let slip that the Muggles starved him. Obviously that was much worse than we initially believed too to have led to such serious malnourishment.”

 

“If I get my hands on them.” Rabastan snarled.

 

“It gets worse.”

 

“How?” Xerxes demanded furiously. “How much worse can it get, Lucius? Those beasts tortured and starved him!”

 

“Harry has the equivalent bone strength of a sixty year old man. They are very brittle. The Healer didn’t believe him when Harry said that he’d been playing Quidditch for years. The only part of his body not affected is his right hand and arm. Those bones are, perhaps not as strong as they could be, but are much stronger than any other bone in his body.”

 

“Why?” Narcissa asked curiously.

 

“In his second year, I went to watch Draco play a Quidditch game. I saw the bludger smash into his right elbow, breaking his arm. The fool Lockhart insisted that he could repair the arm, but instead he removed the bones. Harry told the Healer that he was given Skele-gro, which would have regrown the bones as they were supposed to be, completely undamaged and healthy, but only in his right arm. Despite this, the Healer said that during the four years that Harry has had these new bones, they have suffered slight damage too. A stark indicator of the poor treatment and nutrition he has been receiving from those Muggles.”

 

Rabastan found it hard to breathe as he sat forward and tried to control his rage.

 

“He’s so deficient in calcium and vitamin D that the Healer was surprised that Harry was walking around. These severe deficiencies have resulted in an overall more serious condition, Harry has hypocalcaemia. Out of the possible symptoms, Harry has several, including brittle bones, bad eye sight and suspect hallucinations. We were told that if Harry had left this condition untreated, it would have eventually led to his premature death.”

 

“But the Healers have done their jobs?” Xerxes demanded angrily.

 

“Harry is now on several very strong dosage potions, including one to give him the calcium he desperately needs, one to strengthen his bones and one to tackle the malnutrition. I’ve told him that he has to drink a glass of milk with every meal to help combat the disease. Draco will let me know if Harry is doing as instructed when he goes back to Hogwarts in several days’ time.”

 

“Did he have all of his vaccines?” Narcissa asked before the furious silence could thicken to violence.

 

Lucius nodded curtly. “He didn’t make a sound. Not even with the Dragon Pox vaccine. His pain threshold is incredibly high.”

 

Rabastan ground his teeth together and he had to force himself not to leap out of his chair and go to throttle the Muggles who had abused Harry, his beautiful, wonderful, kind Fiancé. The one, amazing boy who had looked at him and had seen a person and not a ruined cripple. The boy who cared for him and took care of him when those who hadn’t suffered through what Harry had couldn’t even give him a second thought or a second glance. It helped his tenuous control and his anger to think of how kind Harry was. Plus he didn’t know where those filth lived, not yet.

 

“Did he say where those beasts live?” Rodolphus asked calmly, as if reading his mind. Too calmly, Rabastan realised.

 

Rabastan knew his older brother very well, he knew what that calmness meant, what vicious danger it hid underneath the surface. It was with the same calmness that they had gone, with Rodolphus’ hateful Wife Bellatrix, to torture information from the Longbottoms. One of only a handful of times that the three of them had worked together in relative peace, all for their Lord. They had only ever worked together when it was on their Lord’s orders, every other interaction was riddled with curses and spiteful comments and barbs, particularly now that he and Rodolphus were ruined by Azkaban. Bellatrix revelled in reminding them how weak they’d become, how useless.

But they were preparing for their future, for their long term recovery, and Bellatrix wasn’t. The insane woman was just carrying on as normal, or as normal as the unhinged woman ever got these days. He and Rodolphus were going to get better, stronger and Bellatrix was not going to recover if she didn’t work at it. She could try all she liked to hide the damage and the pain under her insane mask, but sooner or later, it was going to catch up with her and then she would be the useless one. Rabastan comforted himself with that knowledge. He could be patient, he could wait for his revenge when he and Rodolphus were perfectly strong and healthy again and she was still haggard and gaunt and suffering.

 

“No, I suspect that he never will.” Lucius sighed. “He’s an intelligent boy, but overly compassionate. He knows what we’ll do to the Muggles if he ever reveals to us where they are and for the moment at least, he feels like he still owes some loyalty to them, despite everything that they’ve done to him.”

 

“We need to change his mind and get the location of those Muggles from him.” Xerxes growled. “No one treats a member of the Lestrange family, _my family_ , in such a deplorable manner.”

 

Lucius inclined his head and sighed dispassionately. “I fear that Harry will never tell us, in which case, we need to find them from the small hints and clues that he accidentally lets slip. Those animals need to be taught a lesson.”

 

“They need to be put down.” Rabastan contradicted harshly.

 

“I fully agree.” Xerxes said angrily. “A mere lesson isn’t enough, Lucius. They need to pay for what they’ve done to that precious boy. He’s a wizard, not Muggle filth like them and they should have been honoured that he was even living with them, let alone related to such a prominent Lord. Rabastan, you listen closely to what he says, he’ll be more relaxed and less guarded with you. The minute he lets slip of their location, come to us so we can play with and then punish those Muggles in exactly the manner that they deserve.”

 

Rabastan nodded and he sighed heavily. Just the thought of Harry being hurt or put in any danger made his anger surge. If he ever found out where those Muggle beasts were hiding, he wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter them like the filthy pigs that they were. He just needed to wait and bide his time, Harry would let something slip eventually and then the hunt for the Muggles would start and he could take vengeance upon them for all the hurt and horror that they had put Harry through. No one hurt a member of his family. No one got away with hurting his future Husband. He didn’t care how long it took him, he could be patient when he needed to and for Harry, he could be more patient than most, but he would find out where those beasts lived and he would play with and then kill them for the pain that they’d caused Harry, even if it took him years.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was groggy and lethargic when he finally woke up. He had not gotten up after a small nap to get some of his homework done as he’d planned, in fact, he hadn’t stirred at all. The burning through his body from the Dragon Pox vaccine had tempered down a little to a more manageable tingling feeling at the injection site, more like pins and needles, it was annoying, but not painful.

He was sweating rather a lot and he was achy too. His body felt completely leaden and stiff. He tried to sit himself up, but he couldn’t and it was a very uncomfortable feeling as his head spun with just the merest effort of trying to sit up.

 

“Pimsey.” He called out. His voice was a weak, raspy croak and he forced a hand up to his throat, which felt dry and sandpapery.

 

A house elf appeared immediately and curtseyed automatically before she looked at him and gasped.

 

“Young Master, yous not looking well.” She cried out in alarm, coming to lay a hand over his burning forehead, knowing that Harry was kinder than anyone she’d ever met and that he would not tell her to punish herself for touching him. “Yous burning up!”

 

“Get my parents, Pimsey, please.” He almost begged. His head had started pounding with his heartbeat and it was starting to affect his vision, he was having problems breathing and staying awake was taking a lot of energy and effort. He was panicking he realised and he tried to calm himself as he waited, unable to move and feeling like his chest was being constricted.

 

Pimsey nodded and then she was gone and Harry was left to his misery, unable to move much, his body felt like it was made from stone and every movement was a slow agony as he carefully rolled onto his side, even that small movement took a brutal amount of effort and he panted harshly as if he’d been running uphill.

A hand touched his forehead what seemed like hours later and he peeled open his eyes with an excruciating amount of effort to look up at Narcissa with a pathetic, kicked expression, pleading silently with her to help him.

 

“He’s fevered, Lucius. Call that Healer and get him here at once!”

 

“Calm yourself, dear. The Healer said that this was a probable side effect of having so many injections in one go. The potion given to Harry would have taken the edge off, but a fever was likely. He’ll be ill for a day or two, which is why we were keeping him home in the first place, but the other potions he’s on will make him very groggy and sluggish for a while. That is why I’ve decided to keep him home for longer.”

 

“Will a fever reducer work? Can we give him one?” Narcissa demanded as she sat on the side of his bed and pushed his damp hair from his face.

 

“Yes, I believe that that would be for the best.”

 

“Pimsey!”

 

“Yes Mistr…”

 

“Get an adolescent strength fever reducer for Harry. Quickly now.” Narcissa ordered, cutting Pimsey off mid-sentence.

 

Harry moaned pathetically and his head lolled backwards without his consent. Lucius’ hand caught his head and tipped it forwards again. His hand came away wet.

 

“He’s soaked through. He needs a bath.”

 

Narcissa put a hand gently under the duvet and touched Harry’s chest. Her hand came away damp.

 

“His pyjamas are absolutely soaked. Lucius, do something!”

 

“There’s not much to do, dear. He’s not well.”

 

“Where is that blasted elf with that…?”

 

“Here, Mistress.” Pimsey answered holding out the small vial of ice blue potion and a glass of water.

 

Narcissa snatched them both and shooed the elf away as soon as she’d come, handing the water to her Husband as she uncorked the vial and tried to coax her son into drinking it. Harry just made a soft noise and his head lolled back again.

Narcissa didn’t give up, she was determined to get the potion into her son as she slipped an arm under Harry’s neck and lifted his head. Harry opened his mouth, he really wanted the potion that he knew would make him feel better, but his mind was very slow and he wasn’t in full control of himself, as he found out when the potion was tipped into his mouth and he needed help to swallow it.

 

“You need to call that Healer and ask him what we need to do.” Narcissa told her Husband sternly, her tone brooking no room for arguing. “This isn’t normal, not even for a high fever.”

 

“I’ll do so now and I’ll send up Rabastan. He needs to…”

 

“No. Don’t want him to see me like this.” Harry moaned pathetically.

 

“He is your Fiancé.” Lucius said firmly. “He is to be your Husband and as you have been looking after him, so he must reciprocate. I want to see how he copes looking after you.”

 

“‘M not a test.” Harry croaked out.

 

“Everything you two do together is a test to make sure that your future marriage will survive for the rest of your lives and not just a few honeymoon years.” Narcissa told him. “If he can’t or won’t look after you when you’re ill then he doesn’t deserve you.”

 

Harry shut up then and he relaxed back in his bed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have Rabastan looking after him. He could spend more time with him this way. Time he hadn’t thought that he’d be able to have as he was only supposed to be staying here overnight.

Harry hadn’t realised that he’d dozed off again until a shaky hand brushed roughly through his damp hair. His eyes flickered open and he gave the best smile that he could muster to Rabastan, who was leaning over him and looking at him with obvious, blatant concern.

 

“How are you feeling?” Rabastan asked softly, considerate of Harry’s pounding head.

 

He was sat on the side of Harry’s bed, leaning over him and his face was lined with worry.

 

“Hot.” Harry croaked.

 

“Oh.” Rabastan almost dived for the bedside table and a glass of cool water as he heard how rough Harry’s voice was.

 

He helped Harry sit up and helped him to drink careful, measured sips of water.

 

“You’re still fevered.” Rabastan informed him gently. “But you’re not as bad as you were last night.”

 

“Last night?” Harry questioned with a frown.

 

Rabastan nodded curtly. “You dragged Lucius and Narcissa out of bed at four in the morning then you fell asleep and you haven’t really woken up since, it’s early evening now. I’ve been with you since Lucius told me to take care of you. You would wake up for a few seconds every other hour for some water, but other than that, you’ve been sleeping.”

 

“Have you been with me this whole time? You could have gone to bed. I know you need your own sleep.”

 

Rabastan smiled at him and bent to kiss Harry’s forehead.

 

“You are more important.”

 

“Nothing is more important than your health.”

 

“There is. At least to me. Your health.” Rabastan told him seriously.

 

“It’s just a fever. Right?” Harry asked, swiping his own forehead with his arm. Even he could feel how hot he was, his arm came away damp with sweat.

 

“A very bad fever, but Narcissa got a fever reducer into you quick enough for it not to have spiked too high, but you are still very ill.”

 

“I feel ill.” Harry sighed. “I feel gritty and dirty too, though.”

 

“Let’s get you in the bath then.”

 

“Is that allowed?” Harry frowned, his face pinched with fever and exhaustion.

 

“Do you care? I want to take care of you, not take advantage of you. I love you. Now come on, let’s get you in the bath and clean you off, the spells that we’ve been using to keep you a little comfortable can only go so far.”

 

Harry went to sit up, but Rabastan slipped his arms under Harry’s shoulders and knees and picked him up gently, before he could actually manage to sit himself up.

 

“Are you okay to do this, Rabastan?” Harry asked concernedly, even as his head throbbed with pain at the slight movement.

 

“I’ve been getting much stronger in recent weeks.” Rabastan told him with a grin. “Dolphus and I have been lifting a lot of weights. You’re lighter than the maximum weight I’ve been lifting recently, but I can’t sustain it for too long.”

 

As if to prove his point home, Rabastan’s arms started shaking under Harry’s body and his Fiancé growled in frustration with himself, even as they made it to Harry’s en suite and Rabastan sat Harry on the bath mat, sinking to his knees to get Harry down safely.

Rabastan stayed on his knees even as he used his wand to turn on the bath taps, running a couple inches of water before stopping the tap and testing the water.

 

“How do you want to do this?” Rabastan asked, looking as nervous as Harry felt.

 

“I don’t know, I just need a bath and I’m too exhausted and too groggy to help myself and I really don’t want to drown.” Harry sighed, even as his already fever flushed cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “I don’t want you, or anyone else, to see me either.”

 

Rabastan chuckled. “I really want to see you. We’re engaged and I hope that we will be married next year. I would love to see my Husband-to-be and when we are married, I will be seeing you a lot. I hate sex with no lighting. I want to be able to see every inch and curve of you.”

 

Harry blushed so hard his pounding head felt like it was going to split. Rabastan chuckled again.

 

“That is a long way off. Over a year away, so for today, I just want to look after your health first.” Rabastan assured him.

 

Harry bolstered his Gryffindor courage and he nodded. Lucius had seen him near naked yesterday, as had a team of Healers, if he could sit through all of that in just his boxers, he could be naked for the man who would become his Husband in a little over a year.

Rabastan smiled at him and bent forward to push his hands under Harry’s shirt. He carefully took off the sweat sodden, grimy feeling pyjama shirt. To his credit, he didn’t linger too much or stare too much, which would have made Harry uncomfortable, but he did look and he looked a lot.

When he removed Harry’s pyjama bottoms, Harry saw the physical effect that he was having on Rabastan, but instead of terrifying him, he took courage from it. It gave him a boldness, the knowledge that he was affecting Rabastan was enough to make him relax and he helped himself as much as he could by helping Rabastan who supported him into the bath and the scant couple inches of warm water.

Harry didn’t make a murmur of complaint as Rabastan grabbed a flannel and washed his sticky body, getting rid of the gel like sweat that had dried on his body, particularly on his back and his neck.

He lay back in the water when Rabastan directed him too. The water wasn’t deep enough to cover his face even when he lay fully back, so there was no risk of him drowning and he didn’t need to waste any energy holding himself halfway up out of the water and Rabastan was able to wash his hair with gentle tugs and hair tingling massages that made him relax and groan happily.

Rabastan smiled down at him, still massaging Harry’s scalp and he just seemed so happy to be looking after him that Harry just relaxed and let Rabastan carry on until he was clean and feeling a little better.

 

“I forgot to pick you up a change of clothes.” Rabastan said as he sat Harry in his lap, wrapped securely in a towel.

 

“So summon them.” Harry replied with a tired grin, placing his face into Rabastan’s neck and resting.

 

“Hmm…” Rabastan hummed before standing up, Harry in his arms again.

 

He took him back into his bedroom and only just managed to place Harry on the bed before his shaking arms gave out.

 

“That was too close.” Rabastan growled in frustration at himself.

 

“You’re getting so much stronger.” Harry praised to remove the negativity from Rabastan’s accomplishments. “A few months ago…fuck a few _weeks_ ago, you couldn’t even lift me off of the floor. Now you can carry me. I call that progress, my love. Don’t push yourself too hard, too fast or you’ll hurt yourself and I don’t want that.”

 

“Dolphus is right, you are soft. You’re making me soft.” Rabastan groaned before laying his body over Harry’s and kissing him. “Yet I couldn’t give a fuck.”

 

“I’m not making you anything that you never had the potential to be in the first place, Rabastan.” Harry said seriously. “I am not trying to change you in the least. Everything you’re becoming, you’re doing it on your own.”

 

“I know. That somehow makes it worse. I don’t deserve you. I’m vile and evil and cruel and you’re the exact polar opposite.”

 

“Well, there is a Muggle saying. Opposites attract.” Harry smiled happily up at Rabastan. “Perhaps that’s why we mesh so well. We’re opposites, but we can each see a little of ourselves in the other, so we can understand and get closer.”

 

Rabastan sighed. “Perhaps. I just know that I don’t want to let you go. I love you and I want you.”

 

Rabastan picked up Harry’s left hand and kissed his engagement ring and Harry grinned wider. He had done the same over the last few weeks in Hogwarts. He’d taken to kissing his ring whenever he had felt like kissing Rabastan. It wasn’t the same as actually kissing his Fiancé, nothing was, but it had helped a little.

Harry pulled Rabastan’s head to his and kissed him uninhibited. With no one to stop them, things quickly escalated and climbed out of control to the point where Rabastan had opened up the towel, leaving Harry bare, and he was kissing over his chest and stomach.

 

“I love you.” Rabastan told him, panting, his breath fluttering over Harry’s skin and pulling one nipple taut.

 

“I love you.” Harry gasped. “Please.”

 

They kissed and Harry slipped his own hands under Rabastan’s shirt, impatiently rolling the fabric up, ignoring the buttons.

Rabastan tore his own shirt off and allowed Harry to touch as he pleased. Neither of them thought about being caught or the consequences of breaking tradition. They just needed to be close to one another, they needed to touch and kiss, so that was exactly what they did. At least until a sudden wave of pain through his skull had Harry gasping and going soft immediately as his hands let go of Rabastan and pressed against his splitting skull, holding it together for surely this pain was splintering it in half.

 

“Harry?”

 

“My head.” He moaned in pain.

 

“Merlin, how the fuck could I forget that you’re not well?” Rabastan hissed, more to himself than to Harry, as he pressed a hand to Harry’s forehead. “I thought you’d flushed and gone hot with arousal, but your fever is back.”

 

“Was aroused.” Harry told him through the pain in his head.

 

“That is entirely not the point.” Rabastan told him as he waved his wand over his body and dried him off completely.

 

Rabastan got up and pulled out Harry’s clean pyjamas and got him dressed before banishing the damp towel and tucking Harry back into his bed.

Harry couldn’t believe that their first moment of this sort had been interrupted by a headache and a fever, he was so frustrated with himself, but mostly, he was just very disappointed.

 

“Will you still stay with me?” He asked quietly.

 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave your side.”

 

“What about your diet and exercise regime? You can’t make yourself ill too.”

 

“I’m still doing everything I need to. I’m just doing them here, in your room, while you sleep. You’re different when you sleep.”

 

“Different how?” Harry asked, trying to shove away the wave of exhaustion that tried to drag him into sleepy oblivion.

 

“Just different. More peaceful, more beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful to me, from the very first moment of our first meeting.”

 

“It was the first thing you ever said to me.” Harry smiled, remembering with a fond grin.

 

“I tried to break your hand.”

 

“Saying it that way implies intent, Rabastan. You’re implying that you knowingly tried to break my hand and you didn’t. I don’t hold that against you, I never have, not even from that first meeting. I was prepared back then and I still am now, perhaps even more so now, to help you through the awful things that happened to you in that hellish place. The damage that you have lingering from Azkaban and the Dementors will not go away overnight, you have been working so hard to regain your health and strength, how could I ever hold a few accidents against you?”

 

“You’re so forgiving. I love you.”

 

Harry snorted. “Just lie down and hold me while I’m sick. My head feels like it’s tearing itself in two.”

 

Rabastan did as instructed and slipped an arm under Harry’s neck and pulled him in close, his free hand rubbing against the side of Harry’s head and he groaned with the pleasure of the soothing touch.

 

“That feels better.” Harry moaned happily.

 

“Better?”

 

“Much, much better.”

 

“Try and get some more sleep. You need to rest.”

 

Harry nodded, already giving into his enervating fever and his eyes fluttered as he tried to resist sleep for a moment before it took him over. He was out like a light within minutes, leaving Rabastan to hold him close and trace his face with his free hand and his eyes as the room fell silent around him.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry’s fever had broken a few days later, but he was still very ill from the combination of potions that he was taking daily. He was sluggish, tired, lethargic and lackadaisical. He stayed where he was put without moving a muscle as his body felt mouldable, like jelly. His awful, skull splitting headaches came and went depending on when he’d last taken his bone strengthening potions and he was still suffering from awful night sweats that left him sticky and feeling grubby. They were an unfortunate side effect of the strong nutrient potion he was taking twice daily.

The best thing about his illness was actually not about him at all. It was that it had given Rabastan a purpose. Instead of moping around as Rodolphus insisted he did while Harry was at school, he was invigorated by Harry’s illness and his need for someone to look after him. He had become an adorable little bedside nurse and even at night, Rabastan never left him alone and he was always on hand to help him, even if he woke up at four in the morning needing a few sips of water, Rabastan was there for him.

Narcissa strongly approved if her satisfied smiles were any indication as she watched closely as Rabastan supported Harry slightly upright to drink a few more mouthfuls of fresh water.

 

“Is that better?” He asked. “Do you need more?”

 

“‘M fine.” Harry mumbled, resting his aching head back down into Rabastan’s lap and humming happily as those fingers went immediately back to massaging his scalp and playing with his hair. “Feels nice.”

 

Rodolphus strode through the door and all the attention was on him immediately. He had such dominating presence that he commanded attention just by entering a room. He said nothing, his muscles were lax and his face happily blank, so nothing had happened, nothing had upset him, he was just wandering around, likely looking for Rabastan to talk to as he came over to them.

He touched his brother’s shoulder before dropping his hand to Harry’s head and ruffling his hair gently.

 

“How are you?” He asked.

 

“‘M fine.” Harry repeated softly.

 

Rodolphus stared hard at him for a moment before turning to Rabastan. “How is he?”

 

“More of the same.” Rabastan answered. “He’s taking more water than he has been in the last few days and he’s staying awake for longer. I believe he’s on the mend, now. A few more days and he’ll be just fine and back to himself.”

 

“Good. Seeing him so quiet and still is very unnerving and knowing that he’s so sick is doing strange things to my mentality.”

 

Harry grinned as he read between the lines of that statement, even in his jellied state, and found that Rodolphus was worried for him and that he cared for him. As Rabastan’s extremely overprotective big brother, that Rodolphus had come to actually like and care for him was a huge achievement.  

 

“Go to sleep.” Rodolphus ordered firmly when he noticed Harry’s grin. “Go on, you need to rest.”

 

Rodolphus placed his hand over Harry’s eyes and in the soothing darkness behind it, Harry’s headache stopped spiking. With that cool, dry palm against his forehead, he felt soothed and comforted. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to fall asleep behind that hand and after only a few minutes, Rodolphus carefully removed his hand and allowed his brother to stroke and touch the sleeping face of his Fiancé.

 

“Our Lord has been in touch.”

 

“What are his orders?” Rabastan replied immediately, giving all of his attention to his brother, but keeping his hand on Harry’s head, stroking his hair gently.

 

“He wanted an update on Harry and how far he’s come. He’s impressed with Harry’s natural progress and at the widening rift between him and Dumbledore.”

 

“I am too.” Rabastan smiled. “He’s too bright to be cooped up in Dumbledore’s cage of expectations. He has so much potential.”

 

Rodolphus nodded. “I see it too. How he took out Rowle…a blasting curse, not meant for use on the living I might add, that was so powerful that it severed his entire leg! I tried not to show it, but Merlin was I impressed that this little fluff head could be so vicious and so very powerful too.”

 

“Don’t call him names, Dolphus.” Rabastan growled immediately.

 

Rodolphus scoffed and sat himself down. “He is a soft little fluff ball. He’s skinny as a rake, up to my waist and he is polite to the _elves_. You need to sort that out.”

 

“No, Rodolphus.” Rabastan said firmly. “He isn’t trying to change me and I won’t try and change him.”

 

“You already are changing him in small, almost unnoticeable ways and he is doing the same to you. You’re more confident, you’re happier and you take more pride in yourself than what you used to. You’ve grown since he’s come into your life. When you first met him you were still clinging to my hand and needing me to go to the bathroom with you. Look at you now just half a year later. He has changed you, but for the better and I’m sure that you’re changing him too, even if neither of you notice nor realise it.”

 

Rabastan considered that thoughtfully. “We aren’t doing it on purpose.” He finally answered.

 

“Perhaps not, but it is happening all the same. Neither of you can see it because it is happening so slowly and so naturally. It’s only natural to want to be better for your Fiancé, to us outsiders looking in, we can see the changes happening. I have known you your entire life, Rabastan, there is nothing that you can hide from me, no change to you that I can’t pick up on.”

 

“We’ve spent most of our lives together.” Rabastan said as he stroked Harry’s hair.

 

“Of course. It was unavoidable after we spent fifteen years in prison together. Fifteen years in neighbouring cells is a long time.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder if Harry is right about setting up a way to remove the Dementors.”

 

Rodolphus scoffed harshly. “You see, this is what I mean, Rabastan. The only reason we were even afraid of Azkaban was because of the Dementors. If they weren’t there then we likely would have been able to get out of that prison ourselves within a week and so will all the other pieces of scum who actually deserve to be there.”

 

“We didn’t care about Azkaban at the time.”

 

“Of course not. It was for our Lord. I would have walked into Azkaban and faced the Dementors head on, despite my fear, if it would have led us to him.”

 

Rabastan nodded his agreement. “Of course. But knowing the damage they have done to us both, how Harry, a perfectly innocent bystander, reacts to them. He’s right you know. They are too dangerous to control and more and more of them slip away without anyone knowing about it. I looked into Harry’s research myself and he’s right, Dolphus!”

 

“I don’t care if he’s right about some rogue Dementors going Merlin knows where, they need to stay in their place in that fucking prison. What if his little ploy does work and he gets rid of them, what then, Rabastan? What happens to the prisoners who were being locked in by their presence? What about the lowlifes out on the street who only stop short of breaking the law because of the threat of the Dementors? Don’t let his pretty face warp your intelligent mind, you’re better than this.”

 

“He’s not just a pretty face!” Rabastan growled.

 

“Perhaps not, but he’s a legitimised Halfblood who was raised by filthy Muggles! He doesn’t understand and he’s never going to if we don’t head him off now instead of indulging his dangerous ideas and fantasies. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or what he’s messing with, he’s a boy!”

 

“Have more respect for him!” Rabastan snarled, almost shaking with the effort it took to keep from shouting and waking Harry back up.

 

“I’ll give him respect when he grows up and earns it.” Rodolphus said before standing up and leaving the room.

 

Rabastan breathed out harshly and went back to touching and stroking Harry’s face, thankful that he had slept peacefully through that exchange and was none the wiser to it. He held Harry’s hand, loosely curling his fingers under Harry’s so that even if he did tense his hand and clench it into a fist, he couldn’t crush Harry’s hand again. He’d never do that again, he swore it.

He needed to try and come to a compromise between his brother and his Fiancé. He adored his older brother and he’d always looked up to and respected him, he’d emulated and admired Rodolphus all of his life, but Harry was his own Fiancé, he would one day be his Husband and the Mother to his children. He needed to prove that he could support Harry in his beliefs and thoughts, to do any less would diminish their marriage.

Rabastan sighed and he hoped that Rodolphus would become more open to Harry’s ideas and worries. If he would just listen and try to reason things out with Harry, that would be better than outright claiming him as stupid and deluded.

Rabastan himself didn’t think that removing the Dementors was a good idea, he could see Rodolphus’ point about the Dementors being a deterrent and keeping the lowlifes in line, but he could also see Harry’s point of view about them leaving the prison of their own accord and putting innocent people in danger, even if they were just Muggles. No one deserved to be exposed to the Dementors, especially if they’d done nothing wrong. It helped Harry’s argument that he himself had suffered so greatly at the hands of the Dementors and had a healthy fear of them. That the vile creatures affected an innocent boy like Harry so badly also helped Rabastan hate them more, but he couldn’t use that to justify removing the Dementors from the prison. It just wasn’t feasible.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was feeling better the next afternoon. He’d managed to eat something a little more substantial than a thin broth and he could move himself without feeling like he was going to vomit or split in half. Walking still caused him to break out in a sweat and had his knobbly knees knocking together however.

 

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” Narcissa said worriedly, pandering to Harry’s illness and trying to get him back into bed. She wanted to keep him home for at least another week, but both Harry and Lucius were insisting that it wasn’t needed and that he could go back to school tomorrow.

 

Harry was inclined to agree with her that he was pushing too hard though, especially when his left leg refused to hold his weight and folded on itself and he slipped to the floor in a heap. He groaned pathetically as he tried to raise himself from the floor and his entire body started shaking like a leaf.

 

“Need some help?” Rodolphus smirked as he walked down the hallway from the bathroom.

 

Harry moaned pathetically and he breathed out a huff of air. He nodded his head and lifted his arms. “Yes.” He said simply.

 

“Say please.”

 

“Don’t milk it or my stubbornness will have me sitting on this floor all day.” Harry snapped.

 

Rodolphus laughed and he bent down and hefted Harry up, not content to just get him to his feet, he had to go the extra mile and carry him too.

 

“Dolphus, I was practising walking!” Harry complained as Narcissa followed behind with a satisfied smile on her mouth.

 

“You’ve had enough practice for one day.” Rodolphus said simply and just as they got into the drawing room, his arms started to shake.

 

Rodolphus controlled the movement with a single-minded determination so that the weakness didn’t show outwardly, but Harry could still feel it. Rodolphus wasn’t anywhere near as recovered as he was trying to make out.

 

“Here, Basti. Keep him with you before he passes out somewhere in the manor. He’s not ready to go walking about out on his own.” Rodolphus said as he placed Harry’s back into Rabastan’s lap and stretched his legs out over the settee.

 

Harry groaned in embarrassment and rolled over, hiding his face in Rabastan’s thigh. Rabastan chuckled and immediately started petting his hair, tugging gently on it and scratching his scalp with his nails. It felt wonderful.

 

“I warned you not to push yourself too hard.” Narcissa told him.

 

“I know, I know.” Harry said. “I just don’t like it. I feel so much better today, but I can’t even walk from here to the bathroom.”

 

“You’re still ill.” Rabastan fretted over him, touching and caressing his shoulders. He stayed well away from Harry’s neck. He wasn’t that confident in himself yet.

 

“You still have weak and brittle bones. Don’t push it. Wait for the potions to work first.” Rodolphus coached him.

 

“I’ve played Quidditch for six years with these bones.” Harry grumbled. “The only bone I ever broke was my right arm and that was because of that rogue bludger. I fell over a hundred feet in my third year too because of the Dementors and nothing broke then either.”

 

“What?!” Rabastan exploded. “You never told me that. How did they get onto the grounds of _Hogwarts_?!”

 

“There were Dementors posted around the school that year because of Sirius Black’s breakout. Lucius tried his hardest to get them removed, but he wasn’t a school governor at the time.” Narcissa explained.

 

“They were on the Hogwarts Express too, the first time I ever saw one. I never knew about them before that and I passed out then too. They were posted all around the school, at every entrance, but they were never supposed to come onto the grounds.” Harry said, rolling back over onto his back so that he could see Rabastan’s face. “But the high emotions of the Quidditch game drew them in regardless, it was explained to me that it would have been something of a feast to them with all the high emotions of the game, and they swarmed the Quidditch pitch. I told you that I have a really bad reaction to them when they’re close and…and I blacked out because of their presence. It just so happens that I was over a hundred feet in the air chasing the snitch when they glided onto the pitch. Naturally, as soon as I blacked out, I fell. I was almost kissed at the end of that year too.”

 

Rabastan looked appalled.

 

Harry nodded when he saw his Fiancé’s expression. “Yeah, that’s when Fudge finally realised that putting the Dementors anywhere near a school filled with a thousand children was a really bad idea and he shipped them back off to Azkaban. If I hadn’t known how to cast a Patronus by the end of my third year, then there’s no way that I’d be here right now…or at least, not with a mind of my own.”

 

“No wonder you’re so scared of them.” Rabastan said gently.

 

“The Dementors are my boggart form too.” Harry admitted.

 

“The one thing you fear is fear.” Rodolphus said, rather impressed.

 

Harry nodded his head. “It hasn’t been so bad now that I can cast a Corporeal Patronus, but not everyone can. Not everyone can protect themselves and just the mist stage of a Patronus charm is difficult to achieve and it’s incredibly draining and taxing too. It doesn’t last and the mist stage can only hold off a Dementor, only the Corporeal Patronus can repel it.”

 

“Can you show me your Patronus?” Rabastan asked curiously.

 

“He is still ill and too weak!” Narcissa cried out in denial.

 

“I’m not too ill for magic.” Harry insisted. “It’s been humming under my skin for a few days now, begging to be used. It’ll relieve the pressure to use it a little.”

 

Harry slipped his wand out of his sleeve and he looked up at Rabastan, he smiled happily, almost on the point of grinning uncontrollably. He thought of them being together, of their wedding day, their first child. He thought back to their engagement night, when Rabastan had slid his adored ring onto his finger and asked him to marry him, to be his Husband. He kept eye contact with Rabastan and then whispered the incantation, watching as the majestic silver-white stag burst from his wand and charged around the room, filling his chest, and those around him, with hope and happiness.

It ran around for a couple of seconds, before realising that there was no danger, no enemies around and it came back to him at a walk, lowering its head for him to touch. Rabastan’s hand reached up and touched the warm, silver stag too and their hands touched and Harry’s happiness spiked, causing the Patronus to glow even more brightly for a moment before it shimmered out of existence when Rabastan’s lips touched his and Harry’s concentration immediately switched from maintaining his Patronus to being completely about Rabastan.

 

“I’ve never seen a Corporeal Patronus with my own eyes.” A familiar voice from the doorway said, very impressed.

 

Harry smiled at Xerxes Lestrange, he and Lucius still in their work robes, who had just walked through the door.

 

“Why a stag?” Lucius asked curiously.

 

Harry shook his head. “You don’t pick your Patronus, just like an Animagus form, it has to mean something to you.”

 

“What does a stag mean to you?” Rabastan asked even more curiously.

 

Harry gave a shy smile. “It was my Dad’s Animagus form, his Patronus too. My Mum’s Patronus was a doe.”

 

“Your Father wasn’t on the Animagus register.” Lucius said with narrowed eyes.

 

“Neither was Sirius or Peter Pettigrew, but all three of them were unregistered Animagi.”

 

“You’re not entertaining thoughts of joining this… _illegality_ , are you?” Lucius asked shrewdly.

 

Harry shook his head. “No. I’ve never once thought of becoming an animal. My life is too complicated as a human, without adding an animal form on top of it. Knowing my luck I’d mess it up and get stuck with fur and a tail.” He shivered remembering Hermione with the Polyjuice potion backfire. “You wouldn’t love me then.” He added to Rabastan.

 

“I don’t know. It might be interesting to rub against fur and have a tail wrapped around me.” He teased.

 

Harry burst out laughing and he couldn’t stop, not even when tears fell from his eyes. A large hand brushed the tears away for him and Harry let out a couple of uncontrollable giggles.

 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He said once he could breathe again.

 

“Of course.” Rabastan grinned.

 

“I love you.” Harry declared.

 

“If you two kiss once more I’m throwing my water over you.” Rodolphus told them as his hand moved to grip around his glass of water, proving his seriousness.

 

“You are such a killjoy, Rodolphus!” Harry groaned.

 

“All you’ve done all this week is kiss!”

 

“Maybe because that’s all we can do.” Harry muttered, just loud enough for the others to hear.

 

Rabastan laughed himself and touched his hair, running his thick fingers through it.

 

“Make sure that it’s all that you do, do.” Lucius reminded him, sitting down next to Narcissa and kissing her soundly before quietly striking up a conversation about his day at the Ministry.

 

Harry shared a secret look with Rabastan…only they knew what had gone on in his bathroom and his bedroom a few days ago, when he had been naked and wriggling on his bed as Rabastan had rained kisses down over his bare, damp body. Not to mention the time at the New Year’s ball where Harry had straddled Rabastan’s lap and snogged him very passionately. To their credit, hey had both been fully dressed on that occasion though, which hadn’t been the case a few days ago as Rabastan had been in the process of stripping when Harry’s headache had spiked and interrupted their little moment.

Of course in the light of day they both knew that they shouldn’t have done it, that it was against the strict traditions of the Purebloods for Rabastan to have even seen him naked, but for Merlin’s sake they had another year and a half to go before they were married, another year and a half to go before they were even allowed to so much as look at one another’s naked bodies. It was frustrating all to hell. Rabastan hadn’t had sex in sixteen years thanks to his imprisonment and Harry was a normal, hormonal teenaged boy and he had urges and desires to sate. It got so bad that sometimes that he wanted to rut against Rabastan’s leg like he’d seen Marge’s dog Ripper doing to Petunia’s leg. There was only so many times that he could touch himself before the need for something more took over.

He groaned and rolled back over onto his belly as he felt himself twitching. That’s all he needed, an erection in the middle of his family drawing room with his parents, his Fiancé and Xerxes and Rodolphus able to see him.

 

“Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” Rabastan asked immediately.

 

“No.” Harry whispered back under his breath. “I’m thinking of naughty things about you and getting aroused. It’s your fault for saying that thing with the fur and tail.”

 

Rabastan looked a bit shocked for a moment, before he grinned, then smirked and Harry felt a hand touch his back heavily, before it eased off a little and started rubbing teasingly soft over his spine and he groaned again, stuffing his head into Rabastan’s thigh and praying that he could keep still and not give away the fact that he was trying his hardest not to rub himself on the seat of the settee.

 

“I’ll pay you back for this, I swear.” He threatened, trying to get Rabastan to stop.

 

Of course his Fiancé did no such thing. Instead he made himself look concerned and worried and he shifted his hand under Harry’s body and rubbed his ‘stomach’.

 

“There, does that feel better?” He asked in his most concerned voice. “If you’re going to be sick, tell me.”

 

“I’m going to rip your spine out and beat you to death with it.” Harry growled through clenched teeth. “I’m ill, you shouldn’t be doing this to me!”

 

“Oh? If you really feel that way then I’ll just leave you alone…”

 

“No!” Harry hissed as Rabastan inched his hand away.

 

Rabastan chuckled and his large hand slid back into place and he started rubbing again. Harry’s breathing came quick and shallow, hitching every now and then until he locked his throat, clenched his teeth and his whole body shuddered as Rabastan teased him over the edge.

 

“Harry? Are you okay, darling?” Narcissa asked suddenly, breaking through his afterglow.

 

“I’m fine.” Harry practically squeaked as the tail of his orgasm still clung to him.

 

“You don’t sound fine.” Lucius added.

 

Rabastan removed his hand from Harry’s boxers and Harry curled up into a ball.

 

“Are you sure you’re not feeling sick?” His Fiancé asked in false concern.

 

He shook his head vigorously.

 

“Is it time for his Potion?” Xerxes asked.

 

“No, he’s got another half an hour to go.” Narcissa replied worriedly.

 

“Basti, is his fever spiking?” Xerxes demanded.

 

Rabastan touched Harry’s sweaty, flushed face and he made a huge show of biting his lip.

 

“I think it is. He feels overly warm.”

 

“I _will_ get you back for this.” Harry hissed threateningly.

 

“Try and get some sleep, Harry.” He said soothingly.

 

“Bathroom, now.” He demanded loudly and Rabastan rolled him over and picked him up. He took long strides out of the family room and down the corridor to get to the bathroom just down the hallway.

 

He shut the door and got Harry down and then he had the gall to laugh as if this were the most hilarious thing in the world.

 

“This is not funny!” Harry said as he went to the sink and wetted a flannel to clean himself off with.

 

“It’s fucking sexy.” Rabastan said with a smirk.

 

“It’s embarrassing!”

 

“Is that the first time you’ve had a hand job?”

 

“Rabastan, I took that Veritaserum test of Rodolphus’, what did you think untouched and pure meant? Of course that was my first!”

 

“But…you’ve touched yourself, right?”

 

Harry nodded. “It’s not the same though. It’s overly more… _intense_ , when it’s someone else doing it, when I can’t control the speed, the pressure or anything myself.”

 

“I wish I could have seen your face.” Rabastan lamented. “You’d look so stunning at the moment of release.”

 

Harry huffed and turned his back, cleaning himself up. Rabastan washed his hands and then dried them before wrapping them around Harry’s waist.

 

“You get it all?” He asked with that damnable smirk.

 

“Yes.” Harry grunted.

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, a bit of real concern showing through.

 

“Better.” Harry actually smiled then, answering honestly.

 

“See, you weren’t ill at all, just sexually frustrated.”

 

Harry laughed and turned in Rabastan’s arms. “No more of that, okay? Do you know how difficult it was not to rut against the chair or moan out loud? I couldn’t take the shame or the embarrassment of it.”

 

“No more.” Rabastan agreed. “It worked me up too.” He admitted. “Thankfully your head was in the way or I’d be sent back home in disgrace.”

 

“Maybe it is a good thing I’m at Hogwarts so much. I’m sure that if I stayed here with you and we still had to get married next year, then we’d definitely break tradition.”

 

“Without a doubt.” Rabastan agreed easily before he pecked Harry’s lips. “Come on, let’s get back to the others before they guess, correctly, that I’m ravishing you in the bathroom of all places.”

 

Harry was able to wobble his way back to the drawing room where he was asked if he was okay and he just nodded, not trusting his shaky voice just yet. Rabastan sat down and Harry curled up, his head and shoulders back in his Fiancé’s lap and he yawned. He was actually really tired now.

 

“Have a nap, Harry, I’ll wake you in twenty minutes for your next potion.” Rabastan told him quietly.

 

Harry groaned. “It’s the vile one that gives me a skull splitting headache next.”

 

“I know. I’ll be sure to massage your head for you.”

 

Harry blushed pink and he groaned again. “You’re fucking evil.”

 

“You knew that before you met me, love.” Rabastan countered with a grin.

 

Harry chuckled and then he yawned. With any luck he’d be feeling a bit better by tomorrow and he’d be able to keep his legs under him better so that he’d be able to go back to Hogwarts, and get himself out of the reach of such irresistible temptation.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I can’t believe my break went so quickly. I need another month or two off, but if I did, then I’d probably never come back. These last stress free months have been utterly blissful, but my break is over now and I am back to updating at last. It might be nice to get some new chapters up and out.
> 
> I got some very epic reviews from the last chapter, I just hope that this one carries on the same high standard that this fic has set. We’ll be back in the Wizengamot now in the next chapter I believe as Harry goes back to Hogwarts and his mountain of homework that awaits him.
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	14. Sentencing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> “Have a nap, Harry, I’ll wake you in twenty minutes for your next potion.” Rabastan told him quietly.
> 
> Harry groaned. “It’s the vile one that gives me a skull splitting headache next.”
> 
> “I know. I’ll be sure to massage your head for you.”
> 
> Harry blushed pink and he groaned again. “You’re fucking evil.”
> 
> “You knew that before you met me, love.” Rabastan countered with a grin.
> 
> Harry chuckled and then he yawned. With any luck he’d be feeling a bit better by tomorrow and he’d be able to keep his legs under him better so that he’d be able to go back to Hogwarts, and get himself out of the reach of such irresistible temptation.

Chapter Fourteen – Sentencing 

 

Harry’s prediction was true, the following day he was almost completely fine and he was well enough to behave, at least partially, normally. He still got the awful headaches from the bone strengthening potions, and the night sweats weren’t going to go away until he stopped taking the strong nutrient potions and they had been completely worked out of his system, but he could stand up and walk on his own two feet now with no needed assistance. He hadn’t been sick at all that day, not yet, and his appetite had returned with a gusto as he’d woken up absolutely famished.

He had more colour to him, he had slept the night through so he only needed to rest a little instead of taking numerous little cat naps throughout the day and he was feeling much stronger than he had in previous days.

Lucius had called the Healer, the one who had been the team leader of his Healers at his check-up, to come and pay them a home visit at the manor to make sure that he was doing as well as was expected and Harry was declared fit enough and ready to be able to go back to school, providing that he took it easy and didn’t push himself too hard. There was to be no fighting or brawling, as Lucius had instructed him sternly, and no Quidditch either, not even practice. He was going to go back to the school later that night so that he was at the castle with plenty of time to sleep and rest up ready for the last day of lessons tomorrow.

It seemed ridiculous to go back on Thursday night and only have one day of lessons before the weekend, but Harry knew that he’d have so much catch up homework and assignments to do that even going to lessons on Friday wouldn’t help him much, but at least it would cut down on his workload a little. He’d be doing homework furiously until Monday morning rolled around. He’d already sent a letter to Marcus explaining the situation and apologising profusely that he had to bail on only their second lesson. He hoped that Marcus understood that these were extenuating circumstances and that he wasn’t sick very often. Out of everything, he hated bailing on his tutoring lessons the most, as Marcus had absolutely no obligation or any reason to tutor him if he didn’t want to and Harry feared that if he messed Marcus around like this, even if he couldn’t help it, then Marcus would just say fuck it and refuse to tutor him anymore.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Harry smiled and turned to look at Rabastan, who had come into his bedroom and was watching him pack up some of the things he was taking with him to Hogwarts into his book satchel. All of his potions were already in the bag, ready to be taken with him.

 

“I’m feeling much better. It’s going to be hell getting used to the headaches in the middle of the day and sleeping while being covered in sweat, but it’s only until the summer.”

 

“I wish I could take this pain and discomfort away from you.” Rabastan said seriously as he walked over and wrapped his arms around his waist.

 

“And put more onto yourself? No.” Harry said firmly.

 

“I can handle it. I’ve gotten much better than I was before, from when I was actually inside Azkaban. A bit more pain won’t break me.”

 

“I don’t care. You’ve worked hard to get yourself to this point and I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve achieved for yourself.” Harry said with a proud smile.

 

“I’d come with you if I could, so that I could continue looking after you.”

 

“Oh that would be wonderful.” Harry laughed. “I can see the headlines of tomorrow’s paper now. ‘Escaped Azkaban Death Eater turns up at Hogwarts to be carer of sickly Harry Potter. Dumbledore so surprised he suffers instantaneous heart attack.’”

 

Rabastan laughed. “If only.” He said.

 

Harry nodded his agreement. “Things are never that easy though and it would be much too dangerous, but I’ll see you soon for Easter.”

 

“It seems so close, but it’ll feel as far away as the moon.”

 

Harry chuckled and he turned, wrapping his arms around Rabastan’s neck. “I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

 

“I still love how you’re setting out your letters. It’s the only written text that can keep my attention for longer than ten minutes and doesn’t give me a stress related headache, I find it so easy to read. Thank you for thinking of doing it that way.”

 

Harry grinned. “It was just a thought. You said you had problems reading because you lost where you were in a passage and I just thought, if it was all in different colours, then you might not forget where you were if you knew that you’d read the green passage, but not the red one.”

 

Rabastan kissed him as soon as he finished talking and Harry melted into his kiss, into his body and he held on, kissing back just as passionately.

 

“I love you.” Rabastan said firmly once they had broken apart for air. “I have never loved anyone as I’ve loved you. Never as strongly, never as wantonly, never has anyone stirred up such desire or need in me. Only you and I love you for it.”

 

Harry smiled happily and he wrapped his arms tightly around Rabastan’s neck.

 

“I can’t wait until we’re married. I want to be able to say that you’re my Husband. I want to be able to tell everyone, though that might not be possible, but I just want us to be married.”

 

“Soon. A year and a half.” Rabastan soothed, holding Harry’s slim body close. He didn’t tell Harry that by the time that they were married in a little over a year’s time, that everyone in the wizarding word would be able to know about them and their marriage, and no one would be able to say or do anything about it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was forced to floo into Dumbledore’s office upon his return to the school, as the Headmaster wanted to know how he was after his week at home, when he would have chosen, and actually preferred, to use Professor McGonagall’s fireplace as he usually would have done.

Of course Dumbledore had brought in his secret weapon, Remus, to make his tongue looser. He’d realised that that was what the Headmaster was subtly doing after their last meeting, when he’d told them too much, especially about his future bride, Aceline. He was supposed to keep things simple and easy to remember, not make up a web of lies about her non-existent backstory. All it took was for him to contradict himself in his lies just once and everything would fall through and he and Rabastan would be back in danger.

He was wrapped up in Remus’ arms almost before he’d even fully landed on his feet and he smiled happily, if a bit tiredly.

 

“You don’t look well.” Remus told him seriously, cupping Harry’s face in both of his hands. “And you’re too warm.”

 

“I know. That’s why I was at home, Remus.” Harry said softly. “I haven’t been well.”

 

“Why not?” The werewolf demanded.

 

Harry sighed. “I’m on some very strong potions now, they make me tired, sweaty and headachy.”

 

“What sort of potions?” Dumbledore asked quickly, with a bit of panic in his voice.

 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Harry snapped.

 

“Harry, please. Are you alright?” Remus asked, distracting him from offloading his anger onto his preferred target.

 

“I’m fine.” He bit out. “Now I need to get back to my rooms, I have a mountain of homework to catch up on.”

 

“I’ve taken the liberty of wiping the slate clean, so to say, with your professors. They aren’t expecting any of the homework set for you in the last week to be handed in.” Dumbledore told him.

 

Harry almost saw red and he couldn’t control the wave of anger that surged forth and he was too tired to even try to stop it.

 

“You had absolutely no right to interfere with my school work in such a way!” He exploded. “If I hadn’t wanted to do it, I would have had my Father contact the school to say so on my behalf! I will be doing the work I missed and I will be handing it in, sick or not! How dare you sabotage my work and my exams in such a blatant way, I won’t stand for it!”

 

“I…I apologise, Harry. I thought that I was trying to help.”

 

“Just stop sticking your nose in my business, it’s nothing to do with you!” He snarled.

 

“Harry.” Remus said quietly, sadly.

 

“I’m fine!” He repeated louder. “There’s nothing wrong with me and I’ll be off of the potions soon.” He lied.

 

“What are the potions for? Please tell me.” Remus begged.

 

“No. It’s my business what I’m taking and for what reason and I won’t have anyone telling me different. The Healers have told me what I need to do and how to take the potions and I’ll be fine, now leave it at that!”

 

“You went to see Healers?”

 

“Of course I did! Who do you think prescribed me the potions in the first place?!” He answered shrilly.

 

“What’s wrong, Harry? You’re so angry.” Remus bit his lip, looking so worried that Harry almost hugged him and he had to bite his tongue to keep the anger flowing lest he crack and say far too much again in such unpleasant company.

 

“I’m angry because I have a pounding headache and he…” He burst out pointing straight at Dumbledore. “Has been interfering with my school work! I’m not going to let my marks drop just because of this di… _this_! It’s no one else’s business but my own and I will choose who to share such information with, no one else!”

 

“Has something else happened to make you so tense, Harry? Is it Aceline?” Remus asked. “Is she alright?”

 

Harry settled his shoulders and he shook his head. “No, she’s fine, we’re fine. The language barrier is a bit difficult to navigate at times, but my French is coming on better. It’s easier to write than it is to speak, but the distance is also difficult to deal with. I haven’t seen her since the New Year party held at my parents’ home over the holidays and I’m missing her a lot more than I thought I would. But she’s absolutely fine, that’s not why I’m so irritated.”

 

“Is it something to do with the potions, a side effect of one of them?”

 

“It’s not a direct side effect of any of them, but I’m tired, I’m weak and drained. I have a terrible headache, I’m feverish and it’s not going to go away for months.”

 

“It’s getting you down.”

 

“Of course.” Harry sighed. “Then there’s the Wizengamot too. Let me tell you, arguing the toss with a bunch of stuck up, brainless apes is not my idea of a productive day.”

 

“Do you have to go back?” Remus asked awkwardly, not used to talking of such political topics with anyone.

 

Harry nodded. “Yes, soon too. We’re sentencing another brainless ape to Azkaban.”

 

“Who?” Dumbledore cut in and Harry’s back stiffened. He’d almost forgotten where he was and with who. The potions were making him even more talkative than usual. That could prove to be very dangerous if he left it unchecked or someone noticed and had a mind to take advantage of him in such a state.

 

“That, I believe, is none of your concern anymore. I am not even strictly supposed to be mentioning it to anyone who is not a member of the court.” He said, trying to make up for the fact that he’d already said far too much. “Remus, would you mind accompanying me to my rooms?”

 

“Of course not, Harry.”

 

Harry left without waiting to be dismissed and without saying goodbye to Dumbledore. He led Remus through the corridors and down to the fourth floor from the seventh, to where his rooms were located.

 

“Please have a seat. Tea?” He asked.

 

“Please.” Remus said, taking a seat where Harry had gestured.

 

Harry filled his little teapot with water and set it on the hotplate as he set up two cups and popped in a teabag each.

 

“Do you still take milk and sugar?” He asked politely.

 

“A drop of milk and one sugar, please.”

 

Harry nodded and while he waited for the kettle to boil he took off the satchel he had with him and started putting all of his potions away.

 

“That’s…forgive me for being nosy, Harry, but that is a lot of potions.” Remus said quietly. “How unwell are you?”

 

“Put it this way, Remus, if it hadn’t been found, I would have eventually died from it.” He said wearily as he closed the cupboard door and removed his whistling teapot from the hotplate. He distracted himself for a moment by pouring the boiling water carefully into the two cups and getting his small bottle of milk out of his cold cupboard.

 

“Soon?” Remus said strangely. Harry looked at him to see that he was very pale. His weathered, scarred face was horrified and he looked like he was in physical pain as well as mental anguish.

 

“A few years maybe.” Harry said mildly, as if he wasn’t speaking of his own premature death. “The Healers said that I might not have lived to see twenty. I didn’t even know about it. I ignored all of the warning signs, but then, in my defence I didn’t even know that they were warning signs so I didn’t realise that anything was amiss, let alone something so devastatingly serious that could have been fatal.”

 

“What do you have, Harry? Tell me.” Remus said sternly.

 

Harry sighed. “This goes no further than us, Remus. I mean it.” He said just as firmly. “Only a few people know and none of them would tell another soul, I want you to do the same. I want you to respect me, so that I can trust you in turn.”

 

“It stays between us and the portrait of Sirius that I have at home. I talk to him a lot too, but he can’t tell anyone else.”

 

Harry smiled, knowing how that felt, being able to talk to Sirius again, to offload onto him and get his honest reply, even if it was his younger self who had last ‘seen’ him as a little baby, and Harry nodded his agreement.

 

“Remember I told you about how I was adopted because of unspecified neglect.” He started.

 

“Yes.” Remus growled, his eyes darkening drastically.

 

“I told you that those people forced me to cook and clean and garden for them, but it went much deeper than that. I never wanted it to come out to anyone, not ever, but now it has. They hurt me, Remus. I have scars all over my body from what they did to me while I was forced to live there with them. It wasn’t just neglect, but pretty bad abuse.” He explained as he took the teabags from the cups, splashed in some milk and added sugar to Remus’ cup before walking over to hand it to the werewolf.

 

“How bad did it get?” Remus was trying to look calm and peaceful, but Harry could see the anger trickling through almost like a visible haze.

 

Harry sighed. “It’s hard to say to be honest. How do you measure child abuse? How do you scale it? I was never welcome there. I was treated like their personal slave. I did everything, cooking, cleaning, gardening, all from a very young age, Remus. I slept in the cupboard too, until I was almost eleven and my Hogwarts letter came addressed to the cupboard under the stairs…that panicked them and I got Dudley’s second bedroom.”

 

Harry sighed heavier and took a deep drink of tea, relaxing himself down.

 

“Needless to say that such treatment has left a serious mark on me. I didn’t realise how badly until I went to the hospital last Sunday morning and the Healers found that I have hypocalcaemia.”

 

“What is that? Is it treatable?”

 

“It’s treatable. I have very low levels of calcium and vitamin D, I’m very deficient in both, so I need very strong potions to correct it as quickly as possible. I have incredibly brittle bones, those of a sixty year old man the Healers told me. The bone potions I have to take cause the severe headaches and the nutrient potions cause the sweating and the fevers. If this condition hadn’t been found, it would have killed me, Remus. I don’t…I’ve never been a huge fan of milk because I was never allowed any as a child and I rarely have cheese or yoghurt or really any other sources of calcium and though I was thrown outside to garden in the summer, I spent most of my childhood locked in a cupboard. Those people could have killed me, Remus and I’m still trying to get over the shock of it. I never would have gone to the hospital on my own, in fact I steadfastly didn’t _want_ to go, but Lucius forced me after he heard how those people treated me. He’s kicking himself for not doing it in the summer like he originally wanted to, for waiting until now to do it, but he didn’t want to push me too hard because everything was new and I was still trying to settle in. Those extra few months would have made a noticeable difference in my recovery. I just…I can’t really believe it, you know?”

 

“Oh, Harry.”

 

Remus put down his teacup and came to hold him and Harry let himself hold onto Remus, just a little bit.

 

“I’m so sorry that I never came to check up on you. In all honesty I thought that you were safe and loved. I never would have expected anyone to treat you so appallingly.”

 

Harry sniffed hard and rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears that he wouldn’t allow to fall.

 

“It all worked out in the end, Remus. I’m very well looked after now. More than that though, I’m being taught properly and I’m actually happy. My life changed practically overnight. I went from being an abused slave to being Lord Potter-Black and I won’t look back anymore. Never again. Those people are dead to me now. They have hurt me time and time again, and now I find that their treatment could have led to my extremely premature death. They’re dead to me, Remus. I don’t want to see them, speak to them or even think of them again now after what they’ve done to me.”

 

“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but theirs. But I’ll overcome this, I refuse to let them win. I refuse to allow myself to be defined by them and their actions. I will make something better of myself. I will be better than them.”

 

“Enough of this talk now. Tell me about Aceline. Do you have a photo?”

 

“No, they’re all at home. Draco doesn’t like the way I ‘constantly moon over her’” He mimicked in a good likeness of Draco. “And Lucius thought that a photo would distract me from my studies, so I wasn’t allowed to bring one. But she’s a little taller than I am, hardly surprising really given that I didn’t inherit my parents height and all this abuse and malnourishment, now the hypocalcaemia too, it’s no wonder that I’m so much shorter than everyone else my age. But Aceline’s got gorgeous dark hair, cut shortish and these big blue eyes. I love those eyes.”

 

“So you’ve said before.” Remus laughed.

 

Harry grinned. “She’s quiet stubborn and headstrong, she always tries to get her own way, but we’re evenly matched in that respect. We both have fiery tempers too. She’s really kind and sweet though. She told me when I last saw her that I was the only one she’d ever loved in such a way.” He swallowed past the rising lump of emotion in his throat, thinking of Rabastan and their parting kiss. He’d give anything to be back at Malfoy Manor with Rabastan right now.

 

“It sounds like you two really do love one another.”

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It was a betrothal, one I didn’t really have a say in, but Lucius was kind. He allowed me to pick someone I actually felt compatible with, instead of just pairing me up with just anyone who was available. Aceline…she was just perfect right from the start. I knew as soon as I first saw her that she was going to be the one. That she was going to be the one that I married and had children with. She was just…the one.”

 

“I’m happy for you, Harry. I’m happy that you’re happy.”

 

That made him smile and he sighed. “None of this is ideal, of course. Me being stuck in Hogwarts and she’s off in Beauxbatons, but I’ll be joining her in a little over a year. Once I’ve graduated. I told you that I was going into teaching, didn’t I?” He said excitedly, planting more seeds so that his lies seemed more like truths.

 

“You did and I’m very proud of you too. I think you’ll make a brilliant teacher.”

 

“I hope so. But the apprenticeship is going to be highly intense and I need to be speaking proper French by then too. So Lucius, Narcissa and Aceline and her parents are giving me a seriously in depth course. It’s brutal.”

 

Remus laughed. “I can imagine. Are you finding it easy?”

 

Harry bobbed his head a bit from side to side in consideration. “Not easy I wouldn’t say, but I’m so determined to pick it up that I’m practically forcing it on myself. I’m doing better than expected apparently.” He grinned. “Of course Draco’s helping me too and Blaise, being French himself and having French as a first language, he’s utterly invaluable to me.”

 

“Do they help a lot?”

 

Harry nodded. “They help me with all my homework too, particularly Ancient Runes. They’ll be by soon to give me all the assignments that I missed since my hospital visit and to catch up. I’ve got to tell them that I’m sick and on potions too. It’s not going to be a good night.”

 

“I’ll leave you to it then, Harry, but please owl me if you need to talk, or floo call me. I…I’m staying at Grimmauld Place, perhaps I should have asked your permission first but…”

 

“Of course you didn’t have to ask me for my permission. Remus, what are you thinking? If you want to live there, it’s yours. I’d _never_ kick you out and make you homeless, though…how’s Kreacher? I can have a word if you’d like.”

 

“He’s hardly ever there, I assumed that he was here with you.” Remus said with a frown.

 

“Hmm…maybe he’s in the kitchens with Dobby, I’ll ask.” He said mildly, but his mind was whirring. Kreacher had slipped off to Bellatrix Lestrange before and it had led to Sirius’ death, was he doing it again? He needed to find out and put a stop to it. He would not have his elf anywhere near Bellatrix Lestrange.

 

“I’ve been cleaning the place up, I have a bit of spare time on my hands, I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Harry laughed. “If you want to try and clean that dump up, Remus, that’s fine. Though I don’t think anything less than a blow torch and a bulldozer would make much difference. Maybe I should try painting it. You can’t really go wrong with sunshine yellow and burnt orange. Nice and bright.”

 

Remus laughed. “You should come sometime and point out which rooms you want which colour, I could paint it while you’re in school.”

 

Harry grinned. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, I’ll owl you when I have a free weekend. Though I might get Dobby to just take me over. It’ll be quicker.”

 

Remus nodded, looking so much happier and Harry hugged him goodbye. Once the werewolf was gone he put Remus’ cup into the sink (anything he left in it got washed and dried by the next morning) and he boiled his little teapot again for a fresh cup of tea.

He sat and he waited for Draco and Blaise to come by, they’d said six O’clock, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Draco came earlier than that to demand answers from him. He would have been so worried getting a cryptic message off of Snape that he wasn’t coming back to school for a week after his hospital appointment. Lucius had sent a small letter, explaining that he was very sick and that Draco had to look after him once he came back to the castle (which Harry didn’t agree with), but that was it, they hadn’t wanted to take the chance that the letter might have been intercepted.

Again his prediction came true as barely half five rolled around, just half an hour after dinner had been served in the Great Hall, and he heard a measured knock at his door before it opened. Only Draco knew how to get into his rooms and he obviously wasn’t going to be polite enough to allow Harry to get up and open the door for him himself.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Draco demanded as soon as he walked in, leaving Blaise to shut the door as Draco came straight to Harry, sat next to him and placed a large, pale hand over his forehead. “You’re fevered! You’re not well enough to be here still. What were Mother and Father thinking sending you back in this condition?!”

 

“Draco, calm down and take a breath.” Harry said with a sigh of exasperation, but secretly he was pleased with the attention and the concern being shown to him. It was nice having an older brother to fuss over him, even if said older brother was only eight weeks older than he was. “I’m alright.”

 

“Clearly you’re not!” Draco scowled.

 

“Just, sit down and let me explain. Do you want tea?”

 

“Tea? You’re offering me tea in your condition?! No, I don’t want any damned tea! What’s wrong with you?”

 

Harry sighed. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to have an older brother to fuss over him.

 

“I am…more ill than was expected.”

 

“I had gathered that for myself!” Draco said a little shrilly.

 

“Draco, please. This is difficult enough as it is.” Harry said, moving his hand to grip at Draco’s. The blond moved immediately so that he was holding Harry’s hand, not the other way around, and he squeezed Harry’s smaller hand gently, comfortingly.

 

“You’re going to be fine though, yes?”

 

Harry nodded. “I’m on a lot of, rather strong potions, but I’ll be fine by the summer.”

 

Draco swallowed and he took a deep breath. Blaise was all but forgotten on the other settee, but Harry focused on just Draco for the moment.

 

“I have hypocalcaemia.” He said softly.

 

“What’s that?” Draco demanded immediately.

 

“It’s a very serious, severe deficiency in calcium and vitamin D. My bones are suffering for it and…and they’re pretty brittle at the moment.”

 

“Brittle? What does that mean, brittle?” Draco asked, almost panicked.

 

“It means that we probably shouldn’t have had those wrestling matches when I first arrived at the Manor. Any one of which could have easily snapped a bone like a dry twig.”

 

“What about Quidditch?” Blaise asked concernedly.

 

Harry shook his head. “The Healer didn’t believe me when I said that I’d been playing for years. I have the bones of a sixty year old at just sixteen. Far too weak and brittle to be playing Quidditch. He said a fall off of a chair could have broken a bone, let alone a Quidditch injury.”

 

Draco swallowed audibly and he took in a deep breath, rolling the information around his mind.

 

“But you’re going to be fine?”

 

Harry nodded. “By the summer I’ll be completely better, well, I _should_ be. I’ll need a Healer to sign off on that though, but for now, I’m on calcium potions, bone strengthening potions too, so that a mere fall won’t do as much damage, and nutrient potions to try…to try and rectify the malnutrition that I’m also suffering with.”

 

“Malnutrition?” Draco said weakly.

 

Harry nodded. “I’m afraid so. A childhood of abuse and neglect led to me being deficient in some pretty basic vitamins and minerals. Those habits stuck with me and I usually avoid foods I’ve never really eaten before, like the cheeses at Christmas. I was never really allowed cheese, or milk, or any nutritious food, I was mostly fed water, white bread and soup, which led to the calcium deficiency and malnutrition in the first place. Being locked in the cupboard for most of my childhood led to the vitamin D deficiency and I got hypocalcaemia because of it. There are a few others that I’m deficient in also, vitamin A and C and a couple of Bs too, but the nutrient potion will sort those out and I need to start trying new healthy foods, particularly leafy greens.” He said with a pinched face that he couldn’t entirely help.

 

“I…I can’t believe you’re so…so sick!” Draco mumbled. “You don’t show any signs of illness, not really. I mean, you’re far too skinny, but…I never would have guessed.”

 

“It gets worse.”

 

“How?!” Draco demanded.

 

Harry sighed. “If it hadn’t been found…well, being so deficient in so many essential vitamins and minerals, it would have led to my death, Draco. I could have died from this. The Healers told me that the hypocalcaemia alone would have killed me before I was twenty. Of course Rabastan is beside himself at the news.”

 

“Those people could have indirectly killed you.” Blaise said simply and Harry nodded in agreement. Draco looked between them and then he clicked on.

 

“Those Muggle monsters?” He snarled. “Where are they hiding, Harry? They need to be punished for this! You can’t let them get away with such blatant abuse. They could have killed you!”

 

Harry sighed and shook his head. “It’s over now.” He said.

 

“It’s not over!” Draco raged. “You’re still suffering for what they did!”

 

Harry nodded. “Until the summer and then I’ll be completely fine.”

 

“Why do you still look so unwell?” Blaise cut in when it looked like Draco would cause an argument by demanding where the Dursleys were living.

 

“The potions are very strong.” Harry said quietly. “They have some pretty serious side effects. The bone strengthening potion causes skull splitting headaches that start a few minutes after I take them and they last for hours, the calcium potions make me drowsy and the nutrient potions cause excess sweating, particularly at night as I have to take them before I go to bed, but I can feel far too warm throughout the day and I do look glassy eyed and… _vacant_ , even when I’m not.”

 

“I can’t believe that you’re so sick!” Draco said worriedly. “Was it worse when you’d just found out, is that why you stayed home all week?”

 

“I had more, one off potions to take at first which made me pretty tired and queasy, not to mention the mass of injections I had to have too, they made me lethargic and listless and if you can believe it, I couldn’t actually walk yesterday. I was still lying on the settee, almost comatose, unable to get up.”

 

“Should you be sitting up?” Draco asked worriedly.

 

“I’m alright. I was trying to walk around yesterday, but my legs kept folding under me, but I’m much better today. The Healer came by this morning and he said that I was alright to come back, as long as I don’t push myself. Quidditch practices will still be held, but I will be directing from the ground for a while. I’m not allowed to actually fly.”

 

Draco, who had opened his mouth to argue the Quidditch issue, shut it again and he nodded approvingly.

 

“Will you be better for the match against Hufflepuff in March?” Blaise asked falsely nonchalant.

 

Harry chuckled. “Don’t sound so eager. I’ll be fine to play in March. You’re not going to win the Quidditch cup, just accept it and move on, Blaise.”

 

Blaise scoffed. “We’ve got Ravenclaw in a few weeks now, we’ll smash them and then we’ll smash Hufflepuff too and with you not at a hundred percent anymore, you’ll be slaughtered by Hufflepuff and then Ravenclaw too and then we’ll win on points.”

 

“Yeah, like I smashed you in the first match of the season.” Harry chuckled. “I was actually sick back then, I just didn’t know that I was, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I was still very sick. I’m getting better by the day now, with every potion that I take. I wouldn’t count on me failing because of this if I were you. You lost to me when I was at my worst and as you fell, so will Hufflepuff and then Ravenclaw.”

 

Draco chuckled. “If that team didn’t have you…”

 

“Well they do have me.” Harry said with a proud grin.

 

“Draco, can’t you do something? Get your parents to take him off the team.” Blaise whined.

 

Draco laughed then and threw an arm around Harry and pulled him in to rest against him.

 

“If you won by getting me thrown off the team it would be a hollow victory, it wouldn’t taste as sweet.” Harry told him sagely.

 

“I don’t care! A victory is a victory.” Blaise declared passionately.

 

Harry chuckled and, with a sigh, he rested fully on Draco.

 

“You two look like lovers doing that.” Blaise smirked.

 

“I’m tired.” Harry said simply.

 

“He’s not well.” Draco added as he brushed Harry’s messy black hair away from his forehead, exposing the scar for a brief moment before his overlong fringe dropped back into place, hiding it once again.

 

Harry yawned and he closed his eyes for a moment, still resting on Draco and taking the comfort of having his adoptive brother holding him and caring for him.

The next thing he knew, he was blinking open his eyes and he was in his pyjamas, in his own bed and it was near enough dawn.

Harry groaned and rolled over. He’d forgotten to take the nutrient potion as he’d slept through without waking up. Lucius and Rabastan were going to kill him. A whole year Rabastan and Rodolphus had been taking their incredibly strict potion, diet and exercise regime and not once had they ever forgotten to take a potion, not once had they skipped a meal or an exercise, even if they’d really wanted to. Less than a week he’d been taking these potions and already he’d forgotten one.

He sighed heavily and he sat up. He didn’t know if he should take the nutrient potion now, or leave it until tonight and take his next dose, which meant either a chat with Madam Pomfrey, or a floo call to his Healer. He needed to tell Lucius though. It had been thoroughly drilled into him that if anything, anything at all, went wrong, even something small, he was to immediately own up to it.

Getting up, he went into his little bathroom and he showered, he was still wet and sticky despite not even taking the nutrient potion, but then he supposed that it would take a while for the night sweats to stop, even after he was no longer taking the potions as they needed to work through his system.

He took his shower and he dressed and got ready for his lessons that day. He made sure that the books he needed for his lessons today were packed in his satchel and he made himself a cup of tea. He was confused to see that there was a clean, empty glass vial on the side.

He immediately checked his potions and there was no odd nutrient potion. He _had_ taken it! He just couldn’t remember taking it nor getting into his pyjamas, but he must have done. He smiled and breathed out a sigh of pure relief. He didn’t need to send that letter home, telling his family that he’d forgotten a potion, because he hadn’t forgotten to take it, he had merely forgotten that he had taken it.

He breathed an even bigger sigh of utter relief and he sat down with his tea and pulled some of his more urgent homework assignments towards him. Draco had left a large stack of parchment on his coffee table, with a note on each one telling him which assignment was due when. Draco and Blaise had also been kind enough to leave him both of their notes for each assignment and Harry groaned at how much he had to do. He didn’t feel well enough to be doing this and his head felt wobbly on his shoulders, but he couldn’t give up now, not when he’d shouted at Dumbledore yesterday afternoon about being able to do it when he obviously couldn’t, damn his stubbornness.

He took a deep drink of tea and he started on his most urgent assignments, the ones that he needed for his lessons today and for Monday morning. He had a couple of hours before he had to go down for breakfast and until then, he was going to get as much done as possible. If he could ever get his scattered, stressed mind to focus on the work in front of him that was.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Things were made infinitely more difficult for him when three days later, at eight in the morning, on Monday the twenty-seventh of January, his rings heated up during breakfast. They stayed hot for several seconds before cooling back down and Harry sighed.

He stood up, drained his small glass of awful milk, before he headed back up to his rooms. He changed for the second time in an hour and he dropped off his bag before hurrying, as quickly as his tired, exhausted body allowed him to, out of the castle and over the grounds. He didn’t care about letting anyone know where he was, he didn’t have the time. If anyone had a problem with it, then they could take it up with the Ministry for all he cared. He was too tired for this.

He missed the first portkey, as usual, and he was caught by the second a few minutes later. He stepped forward, the portkey affecting him a little more than usual and he actually stumbled. He hoped to all fuck that no one had been watching him, or worse, had managed to take a photograph of him stumbling around like a fool.

 

“I’ve got you.” Xerxes’ calm, strong voice broke through his blurred vision and fuzzy head, his strong arm around his back. “Come along.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry replied softly, trying to get his lost breath back and to clear his spinning head so that he could see where he was going.

 

“You’re not well. Such things as a bit of assistance matter little on such occasions.”

 

“Where is my Father?”

 

“Just up ahead of us. I arrived a little late, I was in an argument with my idiot of a son when my rings heated up.”

 

“Rhadamanthus needs to drop dead.” Harry snarled viciously, blinking rapidly to bring his eyes back into focus.

 

“A little loud there, Harry, my son.” Lucius told him, touching his back with Xerxes, his hand just above his Father-in-law’s, walking on his other side.

 

Harry sighed in frustration and raised both hands to grind the heels of his palms into his eyes.

 

“That’s not going to help.” Xerxes told him.

 

Harry dropped his hands and blinked. He chuckled as everything was clear. “It did help. I can actually see now.”

 

“Are you getting cheeky with me?” Xerxes demanded in jest.

 

Harry turned to smile tiredly at him.

 

“You really don’t look well.” Xerxes said worriedly as he laid a hand to Harry’s forehead. Harry had tried to follow the hand with his eyes, but it unbalanced him and he stumbled.

 

“Have you been sleeping?” Lucius asked him seriously as his arm slipped tighter around his back and held him more firmly.

 

“Yes.” He replied truthfully. “I’ve actually been sleeping more than usual, it just doesn’t help.”

 

“Perhaps I should insist to your professors that you are to be given a lighter workload.”

 

Harry shook his head. “No. Dumbledore told me that he’d wiped the slate clean, so I didn’t have to do any of the work that I’d missed while I was home.”

 

“That was generous of him.” Lucius said approvingly.

 

Harry shook his head again and blew out an annoyed breath. “I told him to stuff it and that I would be doing the work that I’d missed when I was home.”

 

Lucius sighed in disdain. “You stubborn boy.”

 

“I’ve done it all now.” Harry said proudly.

 

“At what cost to your fragile health?” Xerxes demanded.

 

“I just…” Harry trailed off as he wobbled a little and the two men held him upright. “I just want to do my best and I have been resting, I’ve just said that I’m sleeping more than normal, but nothing I do helps. I could stay in bed all day and all night and I’d still feel tired because of those damnable potions. I just want to do my very best and get the best marks that I can.”

 

“I know that you do and that is very admirable, Harry, but there are some things that are much more important.” Lucius told him seriously. “Have more care with yourself.”

 

Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll ask for a lighter workload.”

 

“It won’t be for a full term.” Xerxes assured him. “Just until you aren’t as weak as a newborn foal.”

 

“What happens if I can’t get here for a meeting?” Harry asked as he peered around the Ministry, trying to see where he was so that he could figure out how much longer he had to force himself to walk.

 

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked sternly.

 

“What if I was still like I was back on Wednesday or Thursday, where I couldn’t walk and was sleeping more than I was awake? How would I get here? How would I even conduct myself in these meetings while so…not myself?”

 

“Ah, I see what you are trying to say. What if you were physically, or otherwise, unable to attend?” Lucius nodded once as Harry bobbed his head in agreement. “If you are unconscious, or otherwise occupied, at the time of the call, then your name would light up on the member list held by the Chief Warlock and depending on your import to the trial or meeting, it would carry on as normal, or it would be suspended until you could attend. No vote can happen without all members casting their vote, however. So all votes would be suspended until such a time that you were well enough to cast it, or until you named a proxy.”

 

“A proxy?” Harry asked.

 

“Someone who has your permission to stand in for you and can cast a vote in your name.” Xerxes told him as they finally made it to the courtroom.

 

Harry grit his teeth. “Like Dumbledore was using my seats and my votes to do as he wanted?”

 

“Exactly, but most people acting in a proxy position at least _ask_ the person they are stepping in for which way they want to vote before casting it.” Lucius sneered. “He was abusing you and your Lordships to mould things to his ideals without consulting you first. That is just shy of illegal which is why it was such a serious matter. If you hadn’t have been a minor, and Dumbledore hadn’t have been your guardian, then it would have been very illegal and he’d be in a cell in Azkaban right about now. Alas, I can settle for having him out of the Wizengamot, I can get much more done without him stonewalling me at every turn.”

 

“What about today?” Harry asked as he allowed Xerxes to help him sit down on the stone bench of the courtroom. “I can’t keep myself standing upright, how am I supposed to argue my point with these people?”

 

“You only speak up when it’s needed.” Xerxes coached him. “Don’t do too much, try to remain seated so that you force everyone else to look at you, and you hold on to that damnable stubbornness of yours to hide your current illness and to hold your decorum together.”

 

“Speak slowly, so that your voice doesn’t waver.” Lucius added. “Take nice, deep breaths, perfectly timed pauses to catch your breath and control your temper. Nothing will make you feel worse than a surge of anger. It will make you lightheaded and dizzy and in your state it might just keel you over. We’ve all had to come to these meetings while ill at one time or another, you’ll be just fine.”

 

Harry smiled at that and he took several nice, deep breaths as he’d been told to, to centre himself and his head cleared a little. He shifted himself, straightened his back and he settled his shoulders, pulling them back while lifting his chin. He could do this. He would force himself to do this, to make his family proud of him. He refused to be the weak link and he pulled all emotion back from his expression. He hid how tired and exhausted he was, how the pain in his head was spiking after he’d taken his stupid bone strengthening potion that morning with his morning tea.

 

“You are keeping up to date with your potions, yes?” Lucius asked him quietly, almost as if he’d read his mind.

 

“I am.” Harry answered smoothly, well into his ‘Lord’ persona now. “I’ve brought the calcium potion with me, just in case this meeting runs into excess again as it needs to be taken at lunchtime, but I left the nutrient potion behind, it has to be taken before I go to sleep so I can only take it when I get back anyway.” He said. “I took a headache reliever with the bone strengthening potion, to try and stave off the terrible headache before my lessons so that I could concentrate, but it has done very little so far.”

 

“Are you in much pain?” Xerxes asked him gently.

 

Harry shook his head minimally. “No. It is a good thing that I’m so used to such pain.” He answered, thinking of the hideous pain he got when his scar burnt. It hadn’t done as such since he’d been adopted by Lucius.

 

He did still get odd, detached feelings of happiness that were not his own and he knew from that that Voldemort’s plans were progressing well. Lucius and the Lestranges tried to hide such things from him, they tried to talk in hushed voices about Voldemort’s plans or how their little individual missions were going, but with the connection between them, Harry already knew. He knew if things were going well or not before their little meetings were even called. He didn’t feel the need to mention such things however. The less said about Voldemort in his presence the better in his opinion. He was happier not knowing. He was happier to just ignore it.

 

“You shouldn’t be used to such things.” Xerxes growled protectively.

 

Harry was saved from answering by the appearance of Mister Dennis Jute, the accused, being led to the single wooden seat on the floor by two Aurors. The chains clinked and then wrapped around his wrists and forearms, trapping him tight to the chair so that he couldn’t move, or attack the members of the court. As soon as he was secured, the Aurors left the courtroom and closed the door after themselves.

 

“Mister Dennis Jute, you have been brought here today, before the Wizengamot and the Magical Court of Law to face the charges brought against you. These charges include destruction of Muggle property, the serious injury of two Muggles who had to be treated magically and whose quality of life has been decreased as a result of your actions, and most seriously, the breaking the Statute of Secrecy which includes telling Muggles the location of the English dragon reserve among others. How do you plead?” The Minister asked pompously.

 

“Guilty, under the influence of alcohol.” The man said, as if that tacked on excuse would make a difference.

 

Harry breathed in deeply, held for a moment, before breathing out. He repeated this sequence, gearing up for a fight, as the muttering from around the sides of the courtroom indicated that he would have a fight on his hands to have this sentence passed. He could do this, he coached himself, he was determined to do it.

 

“The accused has pleaded guilty.” The Minister said loudly. “His sentence has already been deliberated and agreed upon by this court. Lord Harry James Potter-Black’s proposal of Azkaban has been agreed upon by this court and the sentence is a mandatory ten years.”

 

Harry was surprised to hear his own name mentioned, but he wasn’t half as surprised as Mister Jute, who startled comically as he heard that he was being sentenced to Azkaban, to ten years in the prison at that. His eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped.

 

“I was under the influence of potent Firewhiskey!” He screamed. “You can’t send me to Azkaban for that!”

 

“The accused is appealing his sentence.” Fudge said. “We will now hear his plea and adjust his sentence as necessary.”

 

Harry hardened his face and shifted angrily as he heard that the sentence might not pass after all and he readied himself for the coming battle of wits. He wouldn’t allow the sentence to be adjusted in the slightest.

 

“I was…I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing and I don’t even remember doing it!” Dennis Jute sobbed, all dignity lost. “I didn’t mean it!”

 

“As the accused has pointed out, he was heavily under the influence of alcohol when this instance took place, a severely reduced sentence is needed.” One member of the Magical Council of Law insisted, cutting in and helping out Mister Jute a little by offering him an olive branch. “I cannot go against _Lord_ Potter-Black.” He sneered, as if begrudging even mentioning his official title. “Or his proposal of a sentence of custody in Azkaban, but we can vote to judge this matter fairly. We can rectify this matter by giving the accused a reduced sentence of a week imprisonment to combat the grave injustice being laid down by our Wizengamot.”

 

He got claps and cheers for his ridiculous tirade. Harry remained silent, though on the inside he was fuming. Where was the justice for the two Muggles who were in Saint Mungos? Where was the justice for the innocent people that Dennis Jute had harmed, the property that he had damaged, the dragons and their handlers put at risk because of one single man, drunk or not.

 

“Being a drunken fool does not exclude one from the law!” Someone else piped up. “It cannot be allowed to stand in this court as an excuse for the behaviour shown and the complete disregard for the law!”  

 

Harry shook his head and he sat still and silent. The press was here today in force, he could see many quills scratching against parchment as they recorded what was happening for the morning papers. He had to control himself even more severely here, now, than he had before.

He had had enough just fifteen minutes into the ‘appeal’ however, after continuous arguing back and forth that resulted in nothing but his headache spiking to a new level of pain and the court had achieved very little in that time. It was no wonder that such trials were so lengthy, and how Sirius had been imprisoned with no trial after the back log of trials the war had created because if every trial was handled in this manner, then he could well believe that most war ‘criminals’ had been imprisoned for life without even seeing the inside of a courtroom. He cleared his throat loudly.

The Minister, lost a little in the flood of opposition and confrontation damning his sentence, turned to him with visible, palpable relief.

 

“The court will hear Lord Potter-Black!” He called out desperately.

 

Immediately everything quietened down and the power rush of that was like a heady wine as it surged through him and warmed his belly. He ignored the representatives of the press leaning forward, waiting for him to speak so that they didn’t miss a single word that he spoke and he took a nice, deep breath, keeping his face impassive.

 

“I have been listening closely to the opposition and I have heard countless mentions of ‘unfairness’, of _injustice_ mentioned in relation to this sentence. What I haven’t heard is any sympathy or really any mention of justice for those who were injured or put into harm’s way because of the accused’s actions. To the opposition, where is your concern for those who have been injured? Where is your concern for the Statute of Secrecy? The accused went on a destructive spree through a Muggle city, throwing the blasting hex at anyone and everything in his way, where is your alarm concerning his actions? Why are you sympathising with a drunken brute over innocent people who were harmed during his rampage? Where is your….”

 

“You cannot hope to understand these matters, you are just a boy, Potter. What are you hoping to achieve, what are you trying to do here?” A member of the opposition shouted at him. “You should be in school, not in this courtroom.”

 

“You will not interrupt me.” Harry replied calmly after a small pause while everyone else held their breaths to see how he would react. “If you have any questions, you will wait until I am done speaking.” He answered to sniggers from some members of the court. “You will refer to me as Lord Potter-Black, and as nothing else.”

 

There was silence in the courtroom for a minute as Harry sat, waiting, all attention still upon him and he breathed deeply, trying to think past the awful, skull-splitting headache that he had.

 

“As I was saying, before I was very rudely and petulantly interrupted, the accused does not deserve leniency when he has broken one of the most fundamental laws of our community. The Statute of Secrecy is in place for a very serious, very needed reason and we cannot allow anyone who knowingly breaks it to…”

 

“I didn’t know! I was drunk, I swear it! Two bottles of Firewhiskey I had!” Mister Dennis Jute shouted out, almost hyperventilating as he watched Harry talk him into a ten year Azkaban sentence.

 

Harry again waited several moments after being interrupted before speaking again, pinning his gaze to the accused.

 

“You were drinking in a Muggle city, were you not?” He questioned.

 

“I…yes, but I didn’t…I wasn’t…it addled my thinking.”

 

“It seems to me that your thinking was addled well before you took the first drop.” Harry commented, to further sniggers and surprised chuckles, even Xerxes stifled a small laugh, after he’d disguised it as a small cough. Harry fought to control his expression so that he didn’t smile himself. “Anyone who believes it a good idea to drink more than four glasses of Firewhiskey, let alone two full bottles of it, in the middle of a Muggle city, was not behaving in a reasonable manner. You injured numerous people, two of them seriously, and you risked the death of countless innocent people. That cannot go unpunished. The Minister has set out a fixed sentence of ten years in Azkaban for your serious actions, for your crimes, and I firmly believe that that is no less than you deserve.”

 

There were cheers to drown out the jeers from the opposition and immediately afterwards, Lucius stood.

 

“The court recognises Lord Lucius Malfoy.” Fudge declared loudly, a little more settled and much less flustered than he’d been before Harry had spoken.

 

“My son, Lord Harry, has raised several very prominent facts that needed to be heard.” Lucius said silkily, in the same voice that he might have used at the breakfast table to relay an interesting snippet from the morning newspaper. A voice not suited to speaking in a room filled with hundreds of people, but Lucius made them cling to his every word regardless. “I would, however, wish to go into more detail on this serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy. Such laws are in place to protect all of us, to protect our privacy and this law has been in effect since sixteen-ninety-two. Every magical person has a duty to uphold this most fundamental law. However, it is clause seventy-three that I wish to mention specifically in this case, as the accused has obliterated this serious clause on his spree among other things. Our esteemed members will know that this clause is in place to protect magical beasts from discovery, but also to protect the Muggles from such magical beasts of which they have no hope to defend themselves against. The accused gave out the address to the English dragon reserve, a reserve which has had a surge in Muggles circling around it, all thanks to the accused’s actions. A mere week imprisonment is not sufficient enough to make up for the damage done, nor the laws broken, or the measures that have now had to be used to protect the dragon reserve and the Muggles from said dragons who are contained by that reserve. Though of course, the accused’s _friends_ on this court naturally disagree with us on this point.”

 

Lucius had only just stopped speaking when he opposition rose up and defended themselves, claiming that they weren’t friends with the accused and that injustice was injustice, but Lucius’ words had done their damage, as he’d anticipated that they would, and Harry’s lips twitched minimally. He forced the smile back and strove for control of himself and his expressions, he could laugh later, in private.

 

“That was very well handled, Lucius.” Xerxes complimented under his breath, just loud enough for Lucius, on Harry’s other side, to hear him. “Very smooth.”

 

Lucius inclined his head. “Thank you, but I was feeding off of my wonderful son, who set up much of this by himself.”

 

Xerxes squeezed Harry’s knee and that made him smile. He was rather enjoying these trials, much more than the mundane meetings which were little more than old men, and women, catching up with one another and nothing important was actually discussed. He was, however, feeling queasy, thanks in part to his splitting skull, and it was getting harder to concentrate the longer this trial carried on. He needed to keep his wits about him, but he just couldn’t keep a hold of his thoughts or follow what others were saying very well, his head felt like it was being pulled into two halves.

The trial carried on for another two hours in the same manner. Harry spoke once again, pointing out the seriousness of the crimes committed and reminding those in the courtroom just how serious this matter was to their secrecy, their safety and to the Muggles’ safety too. He was also called out personally by a member of the opposition and he had had to defend himself from the viscous verbal attack, of which he managed easily, but it was the backing of Lord Dawson Shacklebolt, who had stood up to speak in favour of Harry and the accused going to Azkaban, who had truly hammered in the last nail. Once Dawson had given his approval of Azkaban, and had firmly given his backing to Harry, many others had begun to waver and wane in their support of the accused.

 

“We will vote now!” A member of the opposition spoke up, as he saw that his support was lessening with every speech and argument that was made, not strengthening as he might have hoped.

 

“All those in favour of Lord Harry James Potter-Black’s proposal of ten years in Azkaban, raise your wands.” The Minister called out, raising his own wand in the air.

 

Harry pulled his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and it went into the air, but his teeth were gritted now and he couldn’t see through his blurry eyes to count.

 

“All those opposed.” The Minister called out and Harry lowered his aching arm back down, sluggishly slotting his wand back into the little, thin pocket that was made especially for a wand.

 

He sat, with bated breath, waiting for the verdict to be called, but it was Xerxes who clued him in to the results of the vote first because he chuckled darkly and Harry ducked his head to smile his victory to himself.

 

“The court has voted in favour of Lord Potter-Black. The accused shall be taken immediately to Azkaban and will serve a ten year sentence for his crimes against the wizarding and Muggle populace.”

 

“No! No, you can’t do this!” Dennis Jute screamed.

 

Harry’s body went cold and his eyes widened as he realised what was coming. Why hadn’t he thought of this little problem before? It had only just occurred to him that the accused would be sent to Azkaban with Dementors, that he would be exposed to the Dementors who came to collect Dennis Jute. Harry tried to hold himself together, to use his steel will and stubbornness to cling to his dignity and decorum, as two Dementors entered the courtroom through the door behind Dennis Jute. Immediately afterwards, as soon as they were in the room with him, his carefully controlled mask crumbled and he reached out to either side of himself and gripped tight at both Lucius’ and Xerxes’ hands. Sweat didn’t just bead on his head, it dripped down his face and the back of his neck, one drop after another as he shook almost violently. He whimpered softly as the pain in his head spiked to blinding levels and, as the Dementors glided closer to the condemned man, his Mother started screaming in his head.

He felt arms touching him, holding him as he wracked with mild convulsions as he heard his Mother pleading for him, offering herself up in his place. He felt sick and he couldn’t breathe, his eyes rolled up into his head until all he could see was darkness and in that darkness, he heard his Father, telling his Mother to take him and run.

Then the next breath of air came easier, the one after that was warm and he was able to blink. He opened his eyes to see the gravely concerned faces of Lucius and Xerxes. He groaned pathetically.

 

“Come on, sit up.” Lucius encouraged and Harry realised that he’d flopped to the stone floor like a beached fish.

 

“Sick.” Harry muttered shortly as he felt the awful sensation tickling the back of his throat as his stomach clenched repeatedly.

 

“If you’re going to be sick, then be sick. There is a concealment ward around us, no one is any the wiser.” Lucius insisted calmly.

 

Harry couldn’t have controlled it even if every member of the court were stood up and watching him. The bile, thick and bitter, clawed up his throat and he heaved once, twice and then that bile was in his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself and he vomited onto the stone floor repeatedly, until his throat was sore, his head pounded and his stomach ached and he had nothing left to come out.

 

“There we go.” Lucius soothed once he realised that Harry wasn’t going to vomit anything more.

 

“Hate them.” Harry declared weakly.

 

“I know you do. Come, let us get you home.” Lucius insisted as he hefted Harry from the floor, helping him to get his feet back under him as Xerxes used a simple charm to vanish the mess he had left behind.

 

He was shivering, convulsing almost in the aftermath of his vomiting and he felt stone cold. He was heavily supported as they made their way down the steps to the same door that the Dementors had taken Dennis Jute through, but thankfully they were long gone with not a trace remaining.

Once out in the wider corridor, Xerxes came and supported him from his other side too, wrapping a large, muscled arm around his back to support his weight.

 

“I have never seen anyone with such a harsh reaction to the Dementors.” He said worriedly.

 

“Hate them.” Harry said passionately again.

 

“I can see why if that is your usual reaction. No wonder you want them gone.”

 

“Come, you will stay home for an hour or two. I wish to see you eat some chocolate and regain your strength. You were ill before the Dementors arrived, this would not have helped.”

 

“Basti?” He asked hopefully, looking up at the two older men, who shared smirks over his head.

 

“I think I can be convinced to go and get him.” Xerxes said mildly and Harry smiled then. Tired, pained and small, but he smiled.

 

Harry clutched around Lucius’ waist and he was side-along Apparated back to Malfoy manor. He found himself down on his knees, trying to catch his breath upon landing.

Lucius waited patiently, lest he vomit again, as Harry got his breath back before picking him up and supporting him to the drawing room, where Narcissa was sat with a cup of tea and a book.

 

“What has happened?” She demanded as she looked up and caught sight of what must have been his grey tinged, sweaty face. She didn’t bother marking her page, she immediately dropped the book and came to him, ushering him down into a soft seat and Harry fell into it gratefully.

 

“Harry had his proposal pushed through and he won the majority vote on the sentencing. Dennis Jute is on his way to start a ten year imprisonment in Azkaban, the filthy mu…muggleborn.”

 

Harry gave the man holding him upright a weak glare.

 

“That’s wonderful news, but how did my son get in this condition, Lucius? You said that you’d look after him.”

 

That made Harry feel warm throughout, knowing that these two people talked about him, that Narcissa had warned Lucius to look after him while they were at court, just like real parents.

 

“It was the Dementors, Cissa.” Lucius sighed. “Harry has said that he had a bad reaction to them and today I got to witness exactly how badly they affected him and, as per usual, our Harry played down exactly how badly that was too. I should have foresaw that, he has done it with everything else, of course he would have done it with this too.”

 

“He needs chocolate. Pimsey.”

 

The little house elf popped into the room and curtseyed. “What can Pimsey be doing for Mistress?”

 

“The young master needs chocolate and a cup of tea.” Narcissa ordered and Pimsey nodded once and then left the room.

 

Harry was sipping the tea and nibbling the chocolate when Xerxes entered the room, a worried Rabastan following closely.

 

“Are you alright?” Rabastan’s voice was tight and high with his concern as he sat next to him and threw his arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him in tight.

 

Harry nodded, but he shifted himself to lay more of his weight upon Rabastan, resting upon him happily.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Dementors.” Harry said softly. “At least I didn’t pass out this time.”

 

“By the skin of your teeth.” Xerxes added. “I saw your eyes rolling up into your head.”

 

“I hate the damnable things.”

 

“I can understand the passion behind your words now.” Xerxes nodded. “If I reacted half as badly as you do then I would want those things gone too, so that I might never run into one ever again.”

 

“They need to be gone.” Harry said venomously. “Sent away and contained so that they can’t ever go near people ever again. They’re not natural.”

 

No one said anything, but neither did they scoff at him as if he were a mere whimsical child, like usual when he voiced such an opinion that they didn’t understand and Harry finished his chocolate in silence, taking in the feeling of Rabastan stroking his arm with joy.

He drained his tea and bent over to put the cup on a side table before he moved to lay back against Rabastan, snuggling in more firmly, trying to ignore the light quivering of his body that was still very cold. The tea and the chocolate had helped a little, and Rabastan himself was helping a lot too, but he was only just starting to feel better, more normal. Or as normal as he could while he was so sick. 

 

“How did the trial go?” Rabastan asked him to distract him from his thoughts, still stroking his arm and hair gently, or as gently as he could manage. “I assume you won the majority if the Dementors were present?”

 

“Oh, you should have seen him, Basti. He was magnificent, truly magnificent.” Xerxes praised. “Despite being very ill on those potions, still weak from his Healer visit, he was able to sit there stoically and hide it perfectly. He spoke clearly and concisely, oh you should have been there to see his reaction when that filth interrupted him! I almost cracked a rib suppressing my laughter.”

 

“You almost threw me off!” Harry complained. “I could see you out of the corner of my eye and I heard you trying your best not to laugh.”

 

Xerxes did laugh then, loud and booming, and it made Harry smile cuddled up to Rabastan as he was.

 

“It was truly inspired! ‘You will wait until I am done speaking if you have any questions.’ I swear on Merlin himself I have never enjoyed a trial as much as that one, and when that imbecile Jute tried to claim that the Firewhiskey had addled his thinking, our beautiful, clever boy here turned around and you know what he said, Basti? He turned around, as quick as a whippet, and he said ‘it seems to me that your thinking was addled well before you took the first drop’ and I had actual tears in my eyes from suppressing my laughter, I was so surprised that I had to turn my startled laughter into a cough!”

 

Rabastan laughed too and Harry smiled softly as he felt Rabastan’s chest rumble with laughter under his ear.

 

“Are you feeling any better?” Narcissa asked him, laying a slim hand on his head.

 

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

 

“You still look a little pale and distressed.”

 

Harry bit his lip and turned away.

 

“Harry.” Lucius warned, his smile and laughter fading away as he realised that Harry was, again, hiding more than he was letting on.

 

“I hear my parents being murdered when the Dementors come close to me. It…it’s not. It’s not something that I’d ever want to hear.” He said sadly. “The only time that I’ve ever heard their voices and it’s that. It’s them being murdered, trying to protect me. I want to hear their voices, but at the same time I don’t, not like that and it makes me so confused, because that’s the only way I’ll ever get to hear them, but it’s so painful to hear them being murdered, for me.”

 

Rabastan kissed the side of his head and Harry smiled tenuously.

 

“Go and take a bath, sweet one.” Narcissa told him, because truly there was nothing else anyone could say. “It’ll warm you up.”

 

Harry snuggled in closer to Rabastan and he shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

 

“Harry, go upstairs and warm yourself up.” Narcissa told him sternly.

 

Harry frowned. “Can I take…?”

 

“No, you may not take Rabastan with you. It is very improper.”

 

Harry’s shoulders slumped.

   

“Surely I can sit outside the door?” Rabastan asked. “Just in case he has an accident while he’s so unwell and shaky.” He added respectfully.

 

Narcissa drew in a deep breath, but she made the mistake of looking into Harry’s wide, green, pleading eyes. She blew out all the breath in her lungs and she nodded.

 

“Very well.” She acquiesced. “If it will get you into the bath, so be it. But you…” She said rounding in on Rabastan. “If you set one foot into that bathroom I will know of it! You stay outside the room at all times!”

 

Rabastan nodded his head. “Of course, Lady Malfoy.”

 

Harry stood and he tried not to show his excitement as he took Rabastan’s hand and made his way up to his bed suite and into his bathroom. He ran the bath and looked back at Rabastan who had dragged a chair to the wall beside the door and had sat upon it sideways.

Harry’s grin was anything but innocent as he started taking off his robes.

 

“Harry, the door is open.” Rabastan told him, as if he had merely forgotten to close it.

 

Harry chuckled deeply. “You have to stay outside of the bathroom, absolutely no one said that the door had to be closed.” He said naughtily.

 

He watched as Rabastan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard and those dark blue eyes widened with the realisation of what he was doing. Rabastan took a nice, deep, calming breath and watched, riveted, as Harry stripped off his shirt and trousers, leaving just his boxers on. Harry got a bit shy then, but he took his own calming breath and slid the plain black boxer-briefs down and he winked at Rabastan to cover his nervousness with false bravado. Rabastan actually growled at him as Harry climbed into the bath and he sighed happily as the warm water washed away the lingering chill of the Dementors.    
  
“Oh, that’s so much better.” He groaned happily.

 

“You are purely evil.” Rabastan growled, watching as Harry dipped a washcloth into the water and started soaping up his chest and arms.

 

Harry chuckled and he slowed down his movements, making them less quick and efficient and more provocative and alluring.

 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, my love.” Harry said falsely innocent, thinking that this was definitely pay back for the hand job in the family room filled with people.

 

“I bet you fucking don’t you little bloody tease!” Rabastan burst out gutturally and Harry looked at him with a smile.

 

He chuckled at the look on Rabastan’s face. “We’re engaged now, Rabastan. Very soon we’ll be married and sleeping together and able to do as we please.”

 

“Not soon enough.” Rabastan replied.

 

Harry got a very evil idea and he stood in the bath, letting the water run rivulets down his skin, as he took the soapy washcloth to his lower belly, hips and legs. He couldn’t describe the noise that Rabastan made, but it was animal like and heavy and deep with lust.

Harry cut a glance to him and he couldn’t help laughing, as Rabastan was leaning forward in the chair, as if to get a better view. It was his Fiancé’s gaze more than the water that was warming him up.

 

“This is torture.” Rabastan groaned, but his eyes were glued to Harry’s body.

 

“Then don’t look.” Harry said simply.

 

“That would be even more tortuous!” Rabastan declared. “I’d be imagining what you were doing instead of watching it and sometimes, the mind can be worse than the reality.”

 

Harry chuckled softly before sitting down and washing away the soap. He lay back and wet his hair before he washed it and rinsed it. He climbed out of the bath and wrapped himself up in a warm, fluffy towel.

 

“Oh, I forgot my clothes.” He said with a grin and a wink at Rabastan, who exhaled so harshly that Harry was almost concerned for him.

 

He danced past where Rabastan was sat and avoided the outstretched arm that reached out to grab him with a small giggle.

Rabastan did not allow him to escape however, he leapt up with more strength and speed than Harry was expecting and he wrapped his arms around him tight, his bristly chin rubbing against Harry’s cheek as he searched for his mouth to kiss him.

Harry turned around and wrapped his arms around Rabastan’s neck, dropping his towel in the process. Rabastan growled as his hands found smooth, bare skin that was still damp and warm from Harry’s bath and he stroked his hands up and down over as much skin as he could.

Harry broke their kiss with a laugh and he slipped out of Rabastan’s arms and went to his dresser, showing off his bum in the process. He was a little embarrassed, but let no one ever say that he wasn’t brave or courageous as he bent down to slip on his fresh pair of boxer-briefs. He turned back to look at Rabastan, who was just staring at him, his mouth slightly open.

 

Harry laughed. “Are you okay?”

 

Rabastan swallowed hard. “Never better. You truly are beautiful. So beautiful.”

 

Harry smiled and went to Rabastan, wrapping his arms back around his Fiancé. “I love you.” He declared seriously.

 

Rabastan’s smile was predatory as he swooped down and kissed him hard, once again his hands touched and stroked as much skin as he could, even cupping Harry’s bum with both hands, lamenting that Harry had already pulled on his boxers.

 

“You need to get dressed before I have my arse handed to me.” Rabastan scowled, as if he couldn’t believe that he was saying such a thing, but knowing that he had to.

 

Harry laughed and he reached around to squeeze one of Rabastan’s bum cheeks with his whole hand, as Rabastan had done to him.

 

“We can’t have that, can we?” He laughed as he went to get dressed, leaving Rabastan looking slightly shell shocked.

 

“Did you just pinch my arse?!” He demanded as he watched Harry slip into his trousers.

 

“No, I _squeezed_ it, my love. If I’d pinched it, it would have been finger and thumb, not my whole hand.” Harry said easily, trying not to laugh as he buttoned up his crisp, white shirt.

 

He failed at the look Rabastan was wearing and he was almost bent double with laughter.

 

“Well you’re looking much better.” Lucius said as he walked in with no warning.

 

“I feel better.” Harry said with a smile. “My headache is easing off too, which can only be a good sign. That headache reliever did absolutely nothing, though.”

 

“Good, you’re recovering. Now come and eat something and get a cup of tea into your system before you head back.”

 

Harry followed Lucius, pulling Rabastan by the hand after him. He noticed as they went down the stairs that Rabastan wasn’t even holding onto the bannister with his other hand. There had been a time, not even all that long ago, when he’d had to consciously put himself on the other side of Rabastan from the bannister because his, then betrothed, had needed to hold on going up or down the stairs to support himself. He had needed the bannister to get himself up or down the stairs and now, he wasn’t even holding on and he wasn’t putting any extra weight onto him, either.

Rabastan could grumble about himself still being weak, or not as strong as he once was, but he was improving every time that Harry saw him now and he couldn’t have been prouder of his Fiancé for the progress that he had made since last summer…well really since he’d escaped from Azkaban over a year ago now. Harry couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for Rabastan, and Rodolphus, when they’d first been broken out of Azkaban. He’d seen them several months into their recovery, and he wasn’t going to lie, that had been bad enough, but from what little he’d gleaned from Draco, Lucius and Rabastan himself, this time last year had been a very bad time for the two Lestrange brothers. Harry was so proud of how far the both of them had come in a single year.

 

“Are you feeling better, darling?” Narcissa asked him, pressing another bar of Honeydukes’ finest chocolate into his hands.

 

“Yes. I feel much better now.” He said with a smile, sending a sly, secret look to Rabastan over his shoulder. He got the pleasure of seeing those blue eyes darken with lust and Rabastan put a heavy arm around his waist. He couldn’t wait until they were married together.

 

“It has just gone lunch time, do you want something to eat before you go back?” Narcissa asked him.

 

Harry considered that and he sighed, shaking his head. “No. I’ll hold out with just chocolate until dinner. I’ve got to take my potion though.”

 

“Do that now. You don’t want to fall behind with them.”

 

Harry nodded and he took out the vial of the calcium potion and got the chocolate ready. He was given a new cup of tea and Harry knocked back the bottle of potion with Rabastan’s supporting hand on his back. He grimaced and gulped his tea, taking several chunks of chocolate to take away the awful taste.

Rabastan was holding around his waist, rubbing his back gently to ease him through the disgust of taking the potion.

 

“Are you done?”

 

Harry nodded. “It’s all down.” He insisted, pushing the empty vial away from him. “The things I do for my future children.”

 

“Pardon me?” Lucius asked, those grey eyes narrowed.

 

“Oh that’s right, you were out of the room for that conversation. Yeah, apparently the heavier pregnant I got with the condition that I have, if I lived long enough to fall pregnant I was reminded, then the more dangerous it would have been. The baby would have put too much pressure on my hips and spine and both would have probably broken before I carried to full term. The baby might have taken out several ribs too. I might have the ability to carry a baby, but apparently that doesn’t mean that I’m medically fit to carry one.”

 

“But…these potions will rectify that, yes?” Xerxes asked him.

 

“Grandfather!” Rabastan hissed. “Harry has just said that a baby…that _my baby_ , could have killed him if we hadn’t found out about this condition! You need to think of the higher priority!”

 

“The Lestrange family needs an Heir, Rabastan, and Rodolphus won’t even try! That leaves you alone.”

 

“It’s a moot point!” Harry cut above them both before a fight could start over him. “The condition was found, I’m rectifying the damage and healing the cause of it. I will be healthy and able to carry a baby a year or so before we are married. It’ll just be more dangerous if I carry anything other than singletons.”

 

“How so?” Lucius asked him.

 

“The Healer pointed out, when he saw in my notes that I carried the gene, that my hips were very narrow. That leaves little room for the baby to go lengthways, it’ll be all bump.” He said holding his hands stretched well in front of him to demonstrate. “If I have a big baby anyway, and with the Lestrange’s genes I have to take that into account, there is going to be little to no room left for a second baby.”

 

“What if there is a second baby?” Xerxes asked.

 

“As far as I’m aware there is no record of twins being in your family or mine.” Harry said.

 

“Male conception is different.” Rabastan told him gently. “Sometimes twins do pop up out of nowhere.”

 

Harry sighed. “Why am I only just hearing of this now?!” He asked, trying to cling onto his anger so that he didn’t blow things out of proportion. “You do remember that I was raised by Muggles? I had no clue that there was even any sort of gene that allowed wizards to fall pregnant, how can you just expect me to know that sometimes multiples just spring up out of nowhere?!”

 

“You’re not going to be having a baby for another year and a half, we didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon.” Narcissa told him gently.

 

Harry groaned. “It makes more sense now why that Healer kept talking about the options I had if I fell pregnant with multiples then. The Healer told me that if I did have trouble carrying, or if I did conceive multiples, then the pressure on my body might be too much for me, and my magic, to handle. I am not a big guy and I’m narrow. I won’t be able to easily support a multiple pregnancy.”

 

“What options are there?” Rabastan asked him.

 

“Selective reduction.” Lucius said immediately.

 

Harry nodded. “In order to save one baby, the Healers would… _terminate_ the weaker one. It might be the only way. I denied it at the time, but finding out about the state of my body, how weak it is, how _delicate_. If I don’t take the selective reduction, if it’s needed in the first place of course, then I could die from the strain that the pregnancy would put my body under and I might take the children with me too if they can’t be cut out of me in time.”

 

“I don’t want you to die.” Rabastan said softly, his arms embracing him carefully.

 

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Xerxes asked angrily.

 

“Before what?” Harry demanded, an immediate flare of icy anger surging within him, threatening to rip away his hard won self-control. “I found out about it last bloody week, when was I supposed to have told you? When I was feverish and delirious? While I was vomiting up my insides? When I was sleeping off the ridiculously strong potions I have to take just to keep me alive past my twentieth birthday? I could have fucking _died_ from this, Xerxes! I had other things on my mind than a pregnancy that won’t happen for another eighteen months! But no, you’re hung up on the fact that I forgot to tell you that my sixty year old, broken body couldn’t handle a pregnancy and that the severe malnutrition I’m suffering with, thanks to a childhood of abuse, might make it difficult for me to carry twins in the future. I had other things on my mind and I didn’t care about anything else! I could have _died_!”

 

Xerxes was the one to breathe deeply then. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made it seem like I cared more about your ability to fall pregnant than I do about you. It has just been a little bit of a shock to hear more bad news about your, already delicate, health. Of course I care more about the fact that you almost died, you’ve come to mean a lot to me and I’ve come to care for you. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise.”

 

Harry eased down and he nodded, before turning back to Rabastan, even as he was still speaking to Xerxes. “It’s okay. I know it’s a shock. It was a shock for me too. I’ll be better by the summer with a bit of luck and though I’m far too narrow to ever comfortably carry anything more than singletons, I will be able to have children, just not right now.”

 

“Then I believe it’s a good thing that you’re not getting married until after you graduate.”

 

Harry smiled tiredly and he sighed. “I might never have known. That’s what’s hitting me the hardest at the moment. That’s what I can’t really come to terms with, that I would never have gone for that check-up on my own, that I would have died in my late teens or early twenties because…because of what those people did to me.”

 

“Don’t call them people, darling. That is far too generous a term for them.” Narcissa told him savagely and that made Harry smile again.

 

“If you told us where they lived…” Xerxes coached gently, but Harry was already shaking his head.

 

“You know that I won’t. I want it over with now.”

 

“How can it be over when you’re still suffering? We should at least legally prosecute them, Harry and get justice for you.” Lucius told him.

 

“I don’t want to.” He said simply. “I’m looking to my future now, I’m looking ahead, not behind. That’s what’s important to me.”

 

He looked up into those blue eyes that he loved and he smiled, wider as Rabastan reached up to cup his cheek gently.

 

“You’re important to me.” His Fiancé told him seriously and Harry felt warm right down to his toes. “I will do anything for you.”

 

Harry hugged him tighter just for a moment before he stepped back, looking to the clock. He sighed.

 

“I think it was time that you were getting back.” Lucius said, noting immediately where he had looked and why. “Say goodbye to Rabastan.”

 

Harry grinned then, as he got an idea stuck in his mind, and he slid his hands up into Rabastan’s hair and pulled his head down and he kissed him hard and passionately. Rabastan took over easily and clutched him tight to the front of his body and Harry couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face when he felt a twitch near his belly. A twitch that had not been caused by a spontaneous spasm from overstrained muscles.

 

“Alright, that’s more than enough of a goodbye.” Narcissa announced poisonously.

 

Harry and Rabastan broke apart and Harry chuckled softly. “I’ll see you again soon.”

 

“I’ll write to you today.” Rabastan told him, his blue eyes burning with heat. “It should be with you in a few days.”

 

Harry smiled a crooked grin. He moved forward and he kissed Rabastan again feeling those strengthening arms wrap around his back and hold him close, with a lot more confidence than Rabastan had had before. He was coming on in leaps and bounds now, as was his confidence, and it made him so very happy to see.

 

“Come along. I will escort you to the school, just in case there are any issues with your landing or your absence for the morning.”

 

Harry went to Lucius and allowed himself to be side-along Apparated to Hogsmeade with a last, small wave to Rabastan. He landed hard, again, and he groaned as his head gave a feeble throb.

 

“Are you going to vomit?” Lucius asked him, not unkindly, still holding his arm and around back to keep him on his feet.

 

“No. My head throbbed a little, that’s all.” Harry explained miserably.

 

“Come along then. Lunch will be ending soon and I wish for you to be back in your afternoon lessons with no delays.”

 

Harry looked up at the imposing form of the castle in front of him and he took a deep breath. He had survived the trial in a worse state than he was in now, he was sure that he could survive his afternoon lessons too, even if he had to force himself through them with sheer stubbornness and force of will. He wouldn’t allow this condition to get the better of him. He would carry on as normally as he could, faking health and fitness if he needed to, as he’d done during the trial. Anything else was unacceptable as he refused to be the weak link of his family, his adopted one or the one he would receive upon his marriage to Rabastan.

He would not let them down or give them a reason to be disappointed in him. He would make them proud of him, whether that took the form of eloquence and intelligent forethought in the Wizengamot, the highest possible marks he could receive at school and in his exams and doing his duty to his, and to Rabastan’s, bloodlines, then that was what he would do.

He would throw himself into everything that he did, because at the end of the day all he’d ever wanted was a family of his own and to be accepted wholly and completely and it had taken the man next to him adopting him as a son to finally get what he’d always wanted. He could never give that up now, he couldn’t give them up, so the only thing left to him was to defend them all fiercely and loyally with all that he was, because they had seen through him and they had raised him up and gave him all the help he could possibly need and the support and the tools to advance himself and now, with one trip to the hospital, they had also saved his life. It was clear cut in his mind now, he owed them everything, the Malfoys and the Lestranges, and as far as he was concerned, he was one of them now and he would, in actual fact, legally be a Lestrange as soon as he married Rabastan. He raised his left hand up to his mouth and he kissed his engagement ring. He was one of them and he was proud to be. Nothing else now even mattered, not even Voldemort and the brewing war. He would not be a part of it and whatever the outcome, as long as his family, all of them, were safe and well, he didn’t much care what else happened around him.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter has been posted two weeks earlier than planned to celebrate its nomination and first place win in the Fanatic Fanfic Awards yesterday. Thank you to those who not only nominated it to go up for this award, but for voting on it to receive first place and for me to win first place in the Favourite Veteran Author category too, thank you all so much, I hope that you all enjoyed chapter fourteen.   
> The Rise of the Drackens will be posted now next week, for the fifth year anniversary on the twenty-sixth, seriously cannot believe that five years have passed by so quickly, but there we go, and Tainted Blood will be up the week after that too, so we have a busy few weeks ahead!
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	15. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time  
>    
> He would throw himself into everything that he did, because at the end of the day all he’d ever wanted was a family of his own and to be accepted wholly and completely and it had taken the man next to him adopting him as a son to finally get what he’d always wanted. He could never give that up now, he couldn’t give them up, so the only thing left to him was to defend them all fiercely and loyally with all that he was, because they had seen through him and they had raised him up and gave him all the help he could possibly need and the support and the tools to advance himself and now, with one trip to the hospital, they had also saved his life. It was clear cut in his mind now, he owed them everything, the Malfoys and the Lestranges, and as far as he was concerned, he was one of them now and he would, in actual fact, legally be a Lestrange as soon as he married Rabastan. He raised his left hand up to his mouth and he kissed his engagement ring. He was one of them and he was proud to be. Nothing else now even mattered, not even Voldemort and the brewing war. He would not be a part of it and whatever the outcome, as long as his family, all of them, were safe and well, he didn’t much care what else happened around him.

 

Chapter Fifteen – February

 

The night sweats continued, the splitting headaches continued, but Harry had already adapted to put up with it. He had adapted to be able to cope with the gruelling side effects of his potions while still continuing on with his everyday life.

The day that the trial had appeared in the newspaper, the day after he’d given his own sentencing for the very first time, was the day that he started being called ruthless and merciless. Those words had appeared several times in the Prophet article that morning in such sentences as ‘ruthless Lord Potter-Black, or ‘merciless Lord Potter-Black’ along with wonderful anecdotes about him being ‘stoic’, ‘cold’, ‘brutal’, ‘unmoved by the defendant’s desperate pleas’ and ‘callous in the extreme for voicing such a sentence’. Draco and Blaise had found massive amusement in the articles, but outside of the Slytherins and a select few others, there were very few who found any amusement in the newspaper articles about what he’d done and said about a ‘poor’ man who was obviously regretful and hadn’t meant any harm, he’d just been drunk, that’s all.

His speeches were printed almost word for word, which he was pleased about, and he did have those who supported his sentencing as they had done more research than reading the surface pages of the slandering of the Daily Prophet, and they understood the seriousness of what was done. They came and shook his hand and told him so, but they were few and far between. But among the Muggleborns of Hogwarts, his popularity had nose-dived. Not that he cared about such things, but the thinly veiled glares being sent at him were hard to ignore as he drained his bone strengthening potion, along with a headache reliever, with a full cup of tea. All they saw when they looked at him was the ‘pureblood’ in him. The one taught by Lucius Malfoy, the one who had sentenced a Muggleborn man to ten years in Azkaban prison for being drunk and disorderly.

 

“Hey Harry. Can I sit down?”

 

Harry looked up, a little startled at the request, before he smiled. “Of course, Luna. How are you?”

 

“I’ve been well. I wanted to check in on how you were.” Luna told him as she slipped her legs under the table and sat opposite him.

 

“I’m getting better every day.” He insisted. “I don’t see enough of you these days, are you having any trouble?”

 

“Oh no. No trouble.” Luna insisted with a soft smile. “I did wonder about the DA though. I had a lot of fun there.”

 

Harry smiled sadly. “I did too, I really enjoyed teaching, but Ron, Hermione and Ginny have turned on me, Luna. I just can’t do the DA anymore, half of those who attended our little sessions hate my guts now, but if you want tutoring in Defence, I can give that to you personally if you wanted.”

 

“Are you sure? I’d hate to put you out.”

 

Harry smiled. “Luna, you’re probably my only remaining friend in the world. I’d do anything for you.”

 

“I still talk to Neville sometimes. He never stole your things, Harry.”

 

Harry smiled sadly. “I know, Luna. Once I’d calmed down and thought about things, I realised that Neville would never have done such a thing, then the letter from the governors arrived about the amended invoice the other day, after he’d proven himself innocent. There’s just too much water under the bridge. I’ve come to hate it here.” He exaggerated a bit as he played his fingers over his engagement ring.

 

“You’re missing someone special.” Luna said, looking at him playing with the ring.

 

Harry smiled then and brought it to his mouth to kiss it, imagining that it was Rabastan’s lips. “Yeah.” He said softly. “I am. It’s hard being engaged and not being able to see the one that you’re engaged to.”

 

“Do you write to them often?”

 

Harry nodded. “I’m waiting on a letter. I’m hoping it’ll be here soon, just so I can read their words, the words that they’ve written with their own hand.”

 

“You’re being very…careful.” Luna told him mildly.

 

“Discreet I think you’ll find.” Harry teased with a smile. “I don’t want her to be dragged through the press or be associated with any of this.” Harry scoffed, hitting the newspaper that he’d read and folded by the side of his plate with the back of his hand.

 

Luna smiled at him. “I understand.” She said. “Aisling, is what the rumours are calling her.”

 

Harry chuckled then. “Oh, so the whispers have already started? And as usual they’ve been modified. Her name is Aceline, Luna. She’s a year younger than I am and she’s at Beauxbatons. I hope to be joining her next year, after I’ve graduated.”

 

“I’m happy for you.” Luna told him genuinely and Harry breathed a sigh of utter relief that someone who he had once been close to wasn’t snarling in his face for his choices in his own life, whether that was his adoption, his betrothal and engagement, his soaring grades in school, his new attitude towards certain things or taking on his Lord Potter-Black persona.

 

“Harry, come on.” Draco called out, appearing at Luna’s shoulder. “Drink your milk and let’s go.”

 

Harry looked at the offending glass and tried to hide how much he detested it. He knocked it back as quickly as he could, trying not to taste it, treating it more like a potion than a drink.

 

“You should try goat milk.” Luna told him as she stood up and picked up her backpack. “It’s much milder and better for you.” Was her parting shot as she bounced off past the small gang of Slytherins to go to her own lessons.

 

Draco stared at her back for a long moment, before turning back to Harry with a perfect, blond eyebrow raised.

 

“Leave her alone.” Harry said seriously. “She’s one of the bravest people I know. To be herself, despite everything, takes a courage that most people will never know. Luna will never conform to anyone else’s ideals and I love that about her. She’s her own person and she has the right to be. Just leave her alone.”

 

“Come on. We’ll be late.” Draco replied and Harry smiled, standing up and shouldering his satchel.

 

He walked with his brother, and the other small group of Slytherins, to the first lesson of the day, double potions. He had barely sat down on the stool when the tell-tale throb started in his right temple and rapidly spread over his forehead, pounding behind both eyes, to the other temple. He hissed in pain and lifted both hands to either temple to try, fruitlessly, to rub away the pain. This was not going to be an enjoyable lesson.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The days passed very slowly for Harry in his pain filled bubble, about the only good thing he’d taken from the last few days was Luna’s advice about switching to goat milk, which was milder and thus easier for Harry to drink. He even started to enjoy drinking it. He by no means liked it, but he was no longer treating it like a glass of foul potion at least.

He had no idea how he could keep this up for another seven potential months. When he’d been told that he only had to take these potions until the summer, he’d thought nothing of it. Realising now that it meant that he would have to endure daily pain and discomfort, as well as several serious side effects, for several months was a little harsher in reality.

He still made sure that he took them, however. All he had to do to keep taking them day after day, to get them all down and stay down, was to think of Rabastan, and Rodolphus too he supposed, but mostly Rabastan. It didn’t make them taste any better, but it gave him the strength to swallow each potion, one every morning, one every afternoon and one every night.

Today was Saturday the first of February, he didn’t have to hold Quidditch practice, he had minimal homework to do and Marcus was in work today, so he was coming to tutor him tomorrow afternoon instead. Harry had decided that today would be the day that he went to visit Remus at Grimmauld Place. He wanted to catch up with Remus and find out just where Kreacher was going when he wasn’t at number twelve, if the house elf was even there, which according to Remus wasn’t actually all that often these days.

 

“Dobby.” He called out and not a moment later there was a pop and Harry had his knees seized in a hug.

 

“Master Harry Potter calls for Dobby.”

 

“Yes, can you take me to Grimmauld Place, please? I want to see Remus.”

 

Harry held Dobby’s hand and in the next moment, he was in the kitchen of number twelve. It already looked much better, everything had been scrubbed and the roaring fire made everything look brighter and cleaner.

 

“Remus?” He called out questioningly, rather loudly too.

 

There was a clatter from above and Harry smiled as he heard someone on the stairs.

 

“That’ll be all, Dobby.” He said. “Thank you.”

 

The elf bowed and then left, just as Remus came into the kitchen. He beamed widely at him and pulled Harry into a hug.

 

“Are you feeling any better?” The werewolf asked, looking at him critically.

 

“Yes. I’m getting more used to the side effects of the potions that I’m taking now.” Harry said. “So I’m able to manage them a little better.”

 

“That’s great news.” Remus said happily. “Would you like some tea?”

 

“Yes, tea would be great, then we can start picking out paint for this decrepit place. It definitely looks better than when I was last here, though.” He praised.

 

“I’ve been busy cleaning, scrubbing the floors and walls, but as you said, there’s only so much that cleaning will do alone. It needs a full makeover and a lot of paint.”

 

Harry chuckled as he sat down. “Maybe new furniture too. This table has seen better days. It’s a wonder that no one has ever gotten sick eating off of it.”

 

Remus shot him a smile before be brought over two large mugs of tea. Harry drank it gratefully.

 

“That’s nice.” He said happily.

 

“I saw the article.” Remus said carefully.

 

Harry snorted. “I hope you are intelligent enough to realise that it was more than for being ‘drunk and disorderly’ that Mister Jute was put in Azkaban.” He said.

 

“I would certainly hope so.”

 

“He purposefully drank two bottles of vintage Firewhiskey and then he went on a rampage through Muggle Kent.” Harry said shaking his head. “He caused a lot of damage and injured two Muggles, who had to be treated in St Mungos and their quality of life has now been decreased because of his actions. He also put the English dragon reserve at risk by sharing its location and recently it has seen the number of Muggles around it increasing. He needed to be punished, Remus and I admit that ten years is perhaps a bit excessive, but I wasn’t the one who determined the length of his sentence, the Minister was. A fine isn’t harsh enough, community service isn’t harsh enough, it had to be a prison sentence for what he did. We can’t allow anyone to get away with breaking the Statute of Secrecy or abusing defenceless Muggles in such a blatant way! I’m not going to stand for it and if I’m merciless, callous and whatever else the papers decide to call me, then fine, but I am not going to let anyone off with a slap to the wrist for attacking those without the means to defend themselves. It’s not right.”

 

Remus nodded his understanding, looking at him with something akin to pride and Harry calmed himself down and smiled a bit shyly.

 

“So what colour kitchen were you thinking of?” Remus asked as he surveyed the room they were in.

 

“White.” Harry said immediately. “Nice, bright white and not a speck of dirt.”

 

Remus chuckled. “A little cliché to have a white kitchen, but perhaps clichés work for a reason.”

 

“I just think that white is more clean for a kitchen and bathroom.” Harry reasoned. “If it’s one room in a house you want to be seen as clean, it’s where you prepare and eat food.”

 

“You make a good point. White kitchen it is.”

 

Harry chuckled as Remus went to find a scrap bit of parchment and a pencil and he wrote down kitchen dash white. Harry drank more tea happily.

 

“Perhaps a hint of colour?” Remus persisted.

 

Harry chuckled. “Maybe with the appliances. Maybe a touch of grey or silver? They’re nice, clean colours. Especially if it’s a soft, pale grey.”

 

Remus nodded again and added a slash beside the white and added pale grey or silver to the piece of parchment. Harry grinned. He wondered if he and Rabastan would be doing this one day soon, picking out colours for their home and decorating it to their preferences so that they could merge their lives together, so that they could live together.

Once finished with their tea, they went on a tour of the house, Harry had picked out bright yellow for the hallways, stating that it was the first place that most people would see and he wanted the house to give off a bright, friendly feeling as soon as the front door was opened, especially considering the squalid street it was located on. Remus had grinned at him and marked it down on the parchment.

They continued in the same vein for hours, going through spare rooms, guest bedrooms, several bathrooms, picking out colours and arguing over the brightest shades that they could imagine.

At lunch time they had to call a break, because Harry needed to take one of his calcium potions. He had a small sandwich before he washed the potion down with more tea, but he still gagged on it and almost heaved. He shook his head and wiped his eyes from the tears that had gathered there.

 

“I hate these damn potions.” He hissed.

 

“Are you getting healthier?” Remus asked.

 

Harry nodded. “That one is combating my calcium deficiency, so I do need it and I will keep taking it. They’re just vile.”

 

Remus chuckled and handed him a bar of chocolate and Harry took it with a smile.

 

“Now this more than makes up for the taste.” He chuckled.

 

“How are you getting on in your lessons?”

 

“Great, did you know that I’m now in the top ninetieth percentile of my year?” He said proudly.

 

“Really? Harry, that’s great!” Remus said happily.

 

Harry nodded. “I’ve worked so much harder this year, because it’s expected of me. But you know, I think all I really needed was a kick in the arse. I needed someone to be proud of what I was doing, someone to actually care if I was achieving well in school or not. Before it didn’t really matter, no one cared what marks I was getting, I had no one to show my marks or anything to, so I didn’t feel like it mattered. Now that Lucius is checking through every piece of work I do and gets to see the breakdown of all my exams and the marks given to me, I just…I want to do better, I want him to be proud of me and now that he’s pushing me and telling me that everything I do does matter, I’m actually trying and applying myself more and just look at what I can achieve when I do! All I needed was someone to actually show me that they cared about what I was doing in school and suddenly I’m in the top ten percent and aiming higher.”

 

“I’m so proud of you, Harry. When I was your teacher, I just knew that you could do better if only you just tried more. You only ever seemed to truly apply yourself to Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

 

Harry nodded. “It’s because it’s my favourite subject.” He said. “It was only ever Defence that I liked, everything else was near enough mandatory. I wanted to try Care of Magical Creatures as that was something else that I was really interested in, but, well as much as I love him, Hagrid ruined that for me.”

 

Remus sighed. “How are the Runes coming on?”

 

Harry grinned. “Great! Marcus said I’m a natural.”

 

“Marcus?” Remus questioned.

 

“Flint, do you remember him? He’s a genius with Runes and he’s giving me private tutoring.”

 

“Marcus Flint is giving you tutoring?” Remus asked, horrified.

 

Harry nodded. “Yes, and since we’ve started I have a much better grasp on the subject.”

 

“But…Marcus Flint?”

 

Harry chuckled. “I thought the same thing at first, how could a man who was held back a year possibly tutor anyone? But he is truly gifted with Runes. He was scouted by a top company at just fifteen years old, Remus. He focused so much on getting straight O’s in his Runes exams that he ignored everything else and he had to repeat a year to pass his mandatory exams to be able to graduate, but he had a top, specialist consultant job waiting for him as soon as he left school. He’s not too bright with anything else, but if it’s one thing that he knows, and knows incredibly well, it’s Runes.”

 

Remus swallowed, but nodded and Harry smiled.

 

“It’s all fine.” Harry assured. “He’s a professional now and he’s been very nice to me…well, he does have an unorthodox way of teaching, he’d never be allowed to teach children.” He chuckled. “But he’s helping me, so I can put up with some cussing and rather rude remarks about my lack of intelligence.”

 

Harry stood up and drained his tea.

 

“I should get back now.” He insisted. “Are you sure you can handle the painting?”

 

“Of course, it’ll give me something to do.”

 

Harry smiled. “It was nice seeing you again.”

 

“It was, we should do this more often, I miss you.”

 

Harry smiled wider and he hugged Remus. “I miss you too. I’ll see about sending you a letter too. I want pictures when this place has been brightened up a bit.” He laughed.

 

Harry called Dobby as he said his goodbyes and then he was happily back in his rooms and after saying his goodbyes to Dobby as well, he sighed, sitting down and swiping a hand over his head. He was getting drowsy because of his calcium potion and all he wanted to do was get back into his soft, warm pyjamas and take a nap. He couldn’t though. He needed to ignore the urge on the weekend so that he could do the same during the weekday, when he needed to stay awake because of his lessons.

He decided to distract himself by going for a walk. It would take a bit out of him to do so, but if he stayed here then he was going to drift off and that would be bad for his recovery.

He left his rooms and after a bit of aimless wandering he decided to go to the library. He could use the time to read a bit more on the Wizengamot and exactly how the Council of Magical Law had been formed. They’d annoyed him a lot during the trial and they seemed to have had a rather inflated view of themselves if they thought to question the Wizengamot and get away with it. Perhaps that was Dumbledore’s fault as well, who had been the Chief Warlock before Runcorn. Perhaps Dumbledore had allowed such interruptions or even allowed those on the Council of Magical Law to overturn the decisions and rulings of the Wizengamot in an attempt to spite the Pureblooded Lords. He would have to write to Lucius to ask about it.

He made it to the library and he grabbed a piece of parchment from near Madam Pince, grabbed a bottle of ink and a quill that were both stamped with ‘LIBRARY’ in big, bold letters and he took a moment to write as such down on the parchment, more as a reminder to himself that he wanted to send a letter to Lucius and what he wanted to include, as with how drowsy and thick headed his potions made him he couldn’t trust himself to remember it later.

He went to the political books and he sighed at how dusty they were. He was probably the first person to even touch them within the last century. He looked for what he wanted, or at least something that actually seemed promising, and it took him a while before he actually found something, but once he had pulled the book from the shelf, he was able to sit down and rest his aching legs. He couldn’t wait for this school year to be over. That bloody Healer had better clear him as healthy by the summer, he didn’t know if he could carry this on for much longer than that.

He spent three hours lost in dusty books, Hermione would have been proud of him, if she wasn’t being completely irrational about his adoption, that was. He had written down the information he’d found out about the Council of Magical Law and he had several more questions to ask that he could actually pen out into a letter for Lucius, to join the most pressing question that he wanted to ask and have answered, which was had Dumbledore given the Council of Magical Law a higher status than they were meant to have and had he allowed them to overrule the Wizengamot while he’d been Chief Warlock.

He was kicked out of the library an hour from curfew at eight in the night and he put his books back and handed in the quill and bottle of ink that he’d borrowed before tucking the parchment into his pocket. He was very tired now and he was dreading the thought of the nutrient potion that awaited him when he got back to his rooms, and the three flights of stairs he had to climb up to reach his rooms on the fourth floor.

Unfortunately he didn’t make it to his rooms, he got waylaid on the third floor by a confrontation with the very Gryffindors that he was hoping to avoid.

 

“Must you start now?” He sighed exasperatedly, cutting into a tirade that he was sure had been very well rehearsed. “Only it is almost curfew and I would like to reach my rooms before then.”

 

“I am trying to say sorry!” Ron fumed.

 

“Save your breath, I don’t want to hear it.” He snapped. “You made your intentions incredibly clear when you stole my stuff and destroyed it all. We have been through this over and over, I don’t want to be your friend anymore!”

 

“Harry, if we could just sit down and talk?” Hermione tried to reason.

 

“If this is about the bill again…”

 

“It’s not!” Hermione insisted. “We realise that we need to pay for the things that we took and broke, we just…we want things to work out, we want to go back to how things were!”

 

“That’s not a feasible goal.” Harry said. “Things are never going to go back to how they were. I’m not giving up my family and I’m not giving up my Fiancée. Things have already changed in the time that you chose to abandon me and blame me for something that has definitely been one of the best things that has ever happened to me!”

 

“Not…not about that.” Hermione said. “Just, let us try and be friends again.”

 

“No.” Harry said, lifting a hand to his head as his vision blurred. Fuck, he really wasn’t well.

 

“Please just give us a chance to make things right again.” Ginny tried. “We still care for you.”

 

His saviour came in an unlikely form, of a petite, blonde haired girl who stood in front of him and glared with fierce blue eyes at the three Gryffindors in front of him.

 

“He has already said no!” Astoria said determinedly.

 

“It’s okay, Astoria.” Harry said gently, placing a hand on her small shoulder and moving to stand beside her, just in case. Draco would never forgive him if anything happened to his betrothed, but more than that, Harry would never forgive himself if anything happened to her because his ex-friends had started on her.

 

“It’s not okay that they’re hounding you like this. You’ve given an answer and it should be respected!” She directed this last to the three Gryffindors.

 

“What does this have to do with you?” Ron sneered at her.

 

“Don’t.” Harry growled. “She’s a fourteen year old girl and an Heiress of the Greengrass family and the future Lady Malfoy.”

 

“You’re marrying Malfoy?!” Ron grimaced.

 

“I am betrothed to Draco and I shall marry him upon my graduation.” Astoria said coolly.

 

“Come, Astoria. I will escort you to your common room.”

 

“There is no need.” Astoria insisted.

 

“My brother would never forgive me if I didn’t escort you. You are to be my sister-in-law.” He said with a smile.

 

“You make a fine big brother too.” She chuckled gently with a pleasant tinkle to her voice.

 

“Look, we just want to talk, Harry.” Ginny told him insistently.

 

“The topic of conversation is getting tiresome.” He said easily. “I’ve given you my final answer, my mind is not going to change. We are not going to be friends again and I’m not going to forgive what you did and I’m not going to revoke the bill given to your families.”

 

“We were so close once.” Hermione said sadly.

 

“Well, I think you effectively ruined that closeness when you destroyed all of my stuff in a petty, petulant attempt to hurt me by taking away the one thing you knew that I could never truly replace!” He said angrily, his temper, as ever, making an appearance at last. It had likely taken so long to flare up because of how tired and drained he felt thanks to his potions and the underlying disease that he was taking them for. The anger made him feel worse, and that just served to make him angrier.

 

“Harry, don’t waste your energy on these people.” Astoria cautioned gently, knowing that he’d recently been taken from school because of an illness. He didn’t know how much Draco would have told her, but she knew that he’d recently been ill and that he wasn’t a hundred percent still, everyone in the school knew and the rumours were rife between the other students. He’d even heard whispers that he was supposedly at death’s door.

 

“Shut up you snobby little cow.” Ginny snapped.

 

“Do _not_ speak to her that way.” Harry demanded furiously, trying to ignore the way his vision blurred with his anger. He really needed to get to his rooms and just lie down so that he could rest.

 

“She’s a Slytherin, Harry!” Ron told him, as if he didn’t already know it.

 

“She’s a _person_ , Ron! Astoria is my brother’s betrothed.” He growled back. “She is to be my sister-in-law and I will not stand to have her spoken to in such a way. Carry on and I will ensure that you’re expelled for bullying.” He threatened.

 

“Ever since you were adopted by that Death Eater you’ve been best pals with those snakes!” Ron exploded. “You’ve changed and everyone can see it!”

 

“So what if I _have_ changed?” Harry asked loftily. “It’s only for the better.” He insisted. “I am in the top ten percent of the year, I am getting straight Os in every class except for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, of which I am getting EEs and working on turning them into Os as well and I truly think that’s brilliant considering that I only picked up both subjects this year. I have a loving, supportive family, I have a brother, a sister-in-law.” He said touching Astoria’s shoulder. “But best of all, I have my own Fiancée whom I love and will marry upon her graduation, both of our apprenticeships willing, of course.”

 

“Apprenticeships?” Hermione murmured. “Did you not want to be an Auror, or has that changed along with everything else?”

 

“It’s changed because I was never really sold on the whole idea of being an Auror in the first place. It was actually doing the DA that truly changed my mind on that. I want to be a teacher.” He said.

 

“You’ll make a fine teacher too…Professor Potter.” Astoria teased.

 

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Thankfully it won’t be here at Hogwarts. I will be Monsieur Potter, as I will be teaching at Beauxbatons.”

 

“You’re going to France?” Ron demanded.

 

“As that is where Beauxbatons academy is located, yes, Ron, I will be going to live and work in France.” Harry sighed. “Aceline told me about their amazing teaching apprenticeship, of course it helps that it’ll mean that I’ll be closer to her, seeing as she’s a student there.”

 

“Now don’t go breaking any rules, Monsieur Potter.” Astoria giggled. “You’ll be a teacher, you’re not allowed to get frisky with the students.”

 

Harry laughed then. “Not even if the student in question is my own Fiancée?”

 

“Especially not then.” Astoria told him. “It’s unseemly.”

 

“A good thing that I’ll be kept very busy then.” He smiled.  

 

“More so when you become a Father.”

 

Harry nodded, but Hermione’s face went slack.

 

“Aceline is pregnant?” She demanded shrilly.

 

Harry forced himself to look stunned, as opposed to laughing out loud.

 

“Of course not!” He snapped. “We are not even married yet! We are both still in school! Such a thing would be a serious breach of our contract! We are not allowed such contact until we are married. We aren’t even allowed to be alone together in case such a situation arises that we’ve just discussed.”

 

“All this Pureblood nonsense…Harry, it’s gone on for long enough now!”

 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but this is who I am now. You made your choices when you turned from me purely because I’d been adopted by a loving family. You severed our bond when you told me that I deserved to be kept in an abusive home and you destroyed any chance we ever had of reconciling when you tried to destroy my belongings. No more!” He shouted the last and he watched them jump out of their skins. “Stop approaching me, stop trying to speak to me and stop trying to wheedle your way back in with this false front of apologies. You don’t want to be my friend, you just want the debt you owe to me to go away!”

 

“It’s not like you can’t fucking afford to pay for it!” Ron raged.

 

Harry gasped and clutched at Astoria, pulling her back behind him.

 

“How dare you use such vulgar language in front of a young lady!” He shouted. “Who do you think you are? She is a fourteen year old girl and she doesn’t deserve to hear such things from you! I could afford to pay the bill a hundred times over, but that isn’t the point! We’ve had this conversation before, and I’m fed up of repeating myself! I didn’t destroy my own stuff, why should I pay for it when it was you who broke all of it?!”

 

“Harry, are you alright?”

 

Harry felt Astoria relax in his arms as Draco came to stand beside them. Harry looked at her and then he smirked. She must have been with friends when she’d happened upon him…she had sent her friends to find Draco, who had come to help.

 

“I’m fine, just angry that this is still happening.” He sighed. “I’ve given you the same answer again and again, just accept it and move on!” He told the three Gryffindor’s in front of him.

 

Blaise came to stand beside him and Harry felt his supportive touch on his back. Blaise might have been a bit of a perverted joker at times, but when he needed to be serious, he was deadly serious.

 

“You heard him.” Blaise snapped. “He doesn’t want to be friends with you. He wants you to leave him alone!”

 

“Come on, Harry.” Draco walked off, past the trio and Harry followed, keeping himself between them and Astoria. Blaise followed behind like a hulking, protective shadow.

 

“The nerve of those tossers.” Blaise scoffed.

 

“Harry was brilliant.” Astoria giggled.

 

“As I always am.” Harry smirked.

 

“Careful there, brother. We might not fit your head through your door.” Draco scoffed.

 

Harry laughed. “If your head will fit through it, mine will.”

 

They made it peacefully back to Harry’s rooms and Harry immediately started making tea for them all, setting out four mugs on his small square of counter as the other three sat on the settees and made themselves at home.

He brought the tea over and a plate of biscuits and he sat next to Blaise with a sigh, rubbing his head.

 

“Are you okay?” Draco asked him then, more seriously. “I know you haven’t been well lately and that confrontation wouldn’t have helped.”

 

“I was feeling tired and drained before, but my vision kept blurring every time the anger spiked. Why can’t they just take no for an answer?” He demanded.

 

“They realise now what they’ve lost.” Blaise insisted, drinking his tea. “You’re still a celebrity, you’re a Lord of two very prominent, well respected houses and you’re filthy rich.”

 

Harry snorted. “I’d like to think that I have friends for more than just those reasons.”

 

“Well it helps that we’re all filthy rich and from prominent houses too.” Blaise added. “You still have us beaten on the Lordships and the whole being a celebrity thing though.” He winked.

 

Harry laughed then and drank some of his own tea.

 

“You keep high company these days, Potter.” Draco smirked.

 

“That is Potter-Black…soon to be Lestrange.” He winked.

 

“You are taking Rabastan’s last name then?” Astoria asked.

 

Harry nodded. “It was never a problem for me to decide. I would be honoured to take his name.”

 

“You would still be the Lord of the Potter and Black houses, but you would be happy to be Harry James Lestrange?”

 

Harry nodded happily, getting a dopy look on his face as he thought of it. He brought his ring to his lips and kissed it almost on automatic now.

 

“Dear Merlin, look at your face! You’re so in love!” Blaise laughed.

 

Harry grinned unrepentantly. “I am and I just don’t even want to hide it. Thanks again for teaching me a bit of French. I’ve made sure to practice it with others around, to try and plant seeds.”

 

“That’s alright, anything that keeps your luscious arse safer.”

 

“Oi!” Draco immediately leapt to Harry’s defence, almost literally as he sat up straighter and hovered on the edge of the settee. “I mean it, Blaise, leave him alone!”

 

Blaise just laughed. Astoria giggled as she watched and Draco scowled and sat back on the settee and he seemed to place his arm around her without thinking. Harry watched as Astoria noticed Draco’s touch, her eyes widened a little in surprise, before she smiled and shifted just slightly to turn more towards him.

It made Harry smile to see it. He turned to Blaise and grinned.

 

“I see.” Blaise chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want to hook up?”

 

“I’m sure, Blaise. Rabastan and I…we’ve had our ups and downs I’ll admit, but I love him so much.”

 

“I know, it’s just so much fun to wind up Draco.” Blaise laughed. “Besides, you have got to be the hottest fucker I’ve met…well, since you got rid of those hideous glasses and stopped dressing like a prisoner.”

 

Harry snorted. “Thanks I guess.” He laughed.

 

“I always said that you had potential, didn’t I, Draco?”

 

“Hmm, what was that?” Draco asked, breaking off from what Astoria was saying at the sound of his name.

 

“I was just telling Harry that I’d always said that he had potential, remember I’d say as such?”

 

“You did, but I swear to Merlin, Blaise, if you don’t leave him alone…”

 

“I’m complimenting him on his appearance!” Blaise grinned. “Now that he’s properly groomed.”

 

“You say that as if I’d never had a bath before I was adopted.” Harry laughed.

 

“You didn’t even own a brush!” Draco replied.

 

“Even when I do brush it no one can tell!” Harry said. “It goes straight back into these odd, messy tufts.”

 

“You wore it lovely over the winter parties.” Astoria told him. “How did you manage that?”

 

“Ah, that was all Draco.” Harry grinned. “And a vat of potion and about an hour’s hard work.”

 

Draco scoffed. “And the rest!” He joked. “Your hair is a nightmare to work with.”

 

“I can’t wait to pass it onto mine and Rabastan’s children.” He giggled. “Your nieces and nephews are going to have this hair, Draco.”

 

“Dear Merlin, I didn’t even think of that.” Draco groaned.

 

“Here you go kids, off to Uncle Draco. He’ll sort out your hair and outfits for you.” Harry laughed uproariously.

 

“I told you he wasn’t as nice as he seemed!” Draco directed to Astoria, who let out that tinkling laugh again.

 

Harry snorted. “I’m the nicest person you know.”

 

“He’s got you there.” Blaise grinned.

 

“Right, I’m leaving! Come on, Astoria. I will escort you to the common room.”

 

Harry chuckled. “I need to take that potion and get some rest anyway.” Harry said as he collected up the four mugs and went to dump them in his sink.

 

“Will you be okay?” Draco asked him, coming to look into his eyes for a hint that he wasn’t as well as he seemed.

 

“I’ll be fine. I’m getting used to this now.” Harry said quietly. “I’ll take the potion and climb straight into bed. A nice bath in the morning will help me feel better and more human, so don’t worry if I’m a little late down to breakfast.”

 

Draco searched his face and then his eyes critically before he nodded.

 

“Make sure that you get plenty of sleep, it’ll help you to recover.”

 

Harry smiled at the brotherly concern and he clapped Draco’s shoulder.

 

“Go on, get out of my rooms before I’m forced to endure more of your _riveting_ company.”

 

Draco snorted. “Has Rabastan written to you yet?”

 

“His letter is due any day, but you know it takes him a while to write things. The wait is killing me though.” He admitted with a laugh.

 

“You’d think you’d get sick of writing little love letters to one another.”

 

Harry grinned then. “Oh, they’ve taken a more… _private_ turn recently.”

 

Draco’s face fell and the look of horror directed at him made Harry laugh, nice and deep and from the belly.

 

“Stop joking around.”

 

Harry just turned with a grin still on his mouth and he winked cheekily, going to his cupboard to fetch his needed potion.

 

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Draco all but begged.

 

Harry laughed. “Just…don’t read any of my letters.”

 

Draco shivered visibly and turned. “If there was one thing that I never needed to know, it was that!”

 

Harry laughed again as Draco held his arm out for Astoria and went to the door.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry said as he saw the three of them out, closing his door after them.

 

He laughed to himself then and shook his head. He got himself a glass of pumpkin juice and tried to prepare for the vileness of his nutrient potion. Nothing he did worked and again he had to think of Rabastan to swallow it all down and keep it down. He kept that thought in his head, of Rabastan and their future children…children that they might not be able to have if he didn’t take these potions.

He dressed in loose clothes and took one of his books to bed with him. He was cold now, it being February with snow on the ground, but he would soon start to sweat in the night and he’d learnt that if he wore too much then he would keep waking up in the night and he’d end up being nigh on exhausted tomorrow. So he put up with being cold and he would distract himself with the book until he was tired enough to fall asleep. Then it was just cleaning himself up in the morning and stripping his bed. He couldn’t fucking wait until he no longer had to take any of those potions and he was completely healthy and where he should be in regards to his age.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

February crawled along at a snail’s pace as he tried to do the mountain of homework that had been given to him while dealing with his blatant illness and fatigue. He swiped an arm over his sweating forehead yet again and grimaced as it came away soaking wet. There was nothing else for it now, he would have to go and sit in the bath for a bit, he couldn’t take this anymore, he was already sitting on his living room floor completely naked. He’d made sure to send Dobby to Draco with a note to tell him not to visit, because he knew that as soon as Draco noticed him missing, he would charge up here to look for him and he wouldn’t survive the embarrassment of that, neither of them would.

He grabbed one of the Ancient Rune’s books that Marcus had given to him during their tutoring lessons yesterday and he went to his bathroom, flicking his wand and sending a charm to the bath taps to start them running.

The book was actually really interesting, but it wasn’t on the Hogwarts reading list because ‘they’re fucking stupid shits’ according to Marcus. Harry had chuckled at that, but now he could see why Marcus was so disgusted and angry that this book wasn’t included in the curriculum. Harry had understood more about the complex Runes from this book than he had in several months of lessons.

He sat in the bath for an hour, as it went from blisteringly hot to help him sweat out the potion, to moderately warm, to lukewarm and then cold.

He felt more refreshed as he stepped out and dried himself off before actually getting dressed for the day. Maybe he would actually manage to get down to lunch and stop Draco from freaking out over his absence.

Checking his appearance, Harry used a simple spell to dry his damp hair and he dutifully tugged a brush through it half-heartedly. It didn’t look any different to him, perhaps a little more fluffier than usual, but Draco swore that he’d always be able to tell if he ever came out of his rooms without brushing his hair first and all the times that Harry had tested this theory, Draco had known.

Thankful that it was a Sunday, Harry didn’t bother with his robe, lest he wear too much and set off his sweating again. Instead he stuck with a casual pair of wool trousers and a cable jumper. He already looked like a panda because of the huge dark circles under his eyes from a restless night of tossing and twisting in the bed with the night sweats…at least he hoped that that was all it was and he hadn’t gone down with a cold or something. Perhaps he should go to Madam Pomfrey and get a Pepper-Up from her, just in case.

He rubbed his tired, itchy eyes as he realised then that if he did that then he’d have to tell her what other potions he was taking so that he could be sure that the Pepper-Up wouldn’t interfere with them and then those potions would be on his Hogwarts record that Dumbledore could pull at any moment.

He scowled and decided to just suck it up and carry on, it was only a cold if he did have anything, he’d be fine.

He made it to the Great Hall and decided that, fuck it, he wanted to sit with Draco today, so he automatically made his way to the Slytherin table.

 

“Harry, you look awful.” Pansy greeted him, which sent Draco swinging around to face him.

 

“Thanks for that.” He said as he sat next to Draco, squeezing out Daphne, making sure to sit the furthest side of him because Astoria had the other.

 

“You really don’t look well.” Draco told him.

 

“I have already noticed, you don’t have to keep mentioning it.” He grumped, taking his empty bowl and half filling it with spiced pumpkin soup.

 

“Is it the potions?” Draco asked concernedly.

 

“It can’t possibly be anything else.” Harry sighed, checking his forehead with the back of his forearm. It was dry for now, but he was getting warm again. “The nutrient potions have been awful, I still have a skull splitting headache from the bone strengthening potion I took this morning and I have to take the calcium potion now, as soon as I’ve finished eating. I just can’t keep it up. As soon as one symptom goes, I have to take another potion and put up with something else, only today the sweating from the nutrient potion didn’t trail off in the morning, the headache hasn’t gone and now I have to add drowsiness on top of it.”

 

“Are you sick?” Draco asked. Harry just gave him a glare. “No, I meant have you picked something else up, like a cold?”

 

“Probably, because I obviously don’t have enough to deal with already, let’s throw a fucking cold on top of it all.” Harry rubbed his head and sighed. “I apologise for my rude language, ladies.”

 

“No offense taken, you weren’t aiming it at us and you didn’t mean it maliciously.” Astoria responded primly.

 

“Go to Madam Pomfrey.”

 

“I can’t.” Harry sighed. “Father doesn’t want Dumbledore finding out about what sort of illness I have lest he take advantage of it.”

 

“Madam Pomfrey can’t tell anyone, she’s sworn to the same oaths as the Healers at St Mungos.” Pansy sniffed, as if she thought he were being particularly stupid to not know as such.

 

Harry sighed heavily. “Every diagnosis and potion she gives out is noted down in our school medical records, records that Dumbledore, as the Headmaster, can pull and read at any time he pleases.” He explained. “I’d have to tell her what potions I’m taking to make sure that any others she gives me don’t interfere with them and it could be pieced together what I’m taking those potions for, thus Dumbledore would know.”

 

“So go to Professor Snape.” Blaise told him. “He is still a Potion’s Master and he does have limited experience in Healing, if you do only have a cold or something he could probably help you.”

 

Harry groaned. “I’d rather go back to my rooms and die than talk to him.”

 

“Then you’re cutting off your nose to spite your face.” Draco told him. “I won’t allow it. You will come with me to his office after lunch and I will force you to see him.”

 

“It’s probably nothing.” Harry insisted.

 

“But it might be something.” Draco shot back stubbornly. “Now eat your soup, you need your strength.”

 

Harry sighed and went back to his small bowl of soup, eating slowly, just in case he really was sick and his stomach decided to reject anything.

 

“Are you sure that that’s all you want?” Draco asked worriedly when Harry finished eating and Draco realised that all Harry wanted to eat was a small, half full bowl of soup.

 

“I’m sure.” Harry sighed before he knocked back the calcium potion and then glugged a full glass of juice. He screwed up his face and shook his head on reflex, but managed to get it all down before he could gasp for air.

 

Draco touched his back and his thumb rubbed gently and Harry ducked his head, liking the way it felt. It helped to ease the tight muscles in his back and neck as he relaxed and just sat there, head hanging down, as his body relaxed bit by bit.

 

“Come on, we need to get you to see Professor Snape.” Draco insisted as he stood up and helped Harry to stand. Blaise came to stand on his other side and they walked as normally as they could out of the Great Hall, if a bit slower than usual.

 

Harry was helped down the stone stairs into the dungeon and then down the dimly lit corridors to Snape’s office. He hadn’t been present at lunch in the Great Hall, so they were hoping that he was in his office.

He wasn’t apparently, as no matter how hard Draco knocked, no one answered.

 

“Great, can I just go and collapse in my rooms now, before I do so in the middle of the corridor?” Harry snapped sarcastically.

 

“I suppose that would be for the best, for now.” Draco relented.

 

They’d barely made it halfway back down the corridor when they bumped into the very man that Harry didn’t want to see.

 

“And what might you be doing down here?” Snape asked silkily.

 

“Sir, Harry’s not well.”

 

“Clearly.” Snape said. “Perhaps you should have dragged him to the matron instead.”

 

“Father doesn’t want the nature of his illness discovered. If he goes to Madam Pomfrey, he’ll have to tell her what potions he’s taking.”

 

Snape sighed heavily, as if it was so burdensome to just look after the students around him. To him it probably was.

 

“To my office.” He ordered and swept around them to walk on ahead.

 

The three of them made it back to the office to find the door open and Snape preparing things he might need with deft hands.

Blaise shut the door behind them while Draco settled Harry on a dragonhide settee.

 

“What seems to be the problem, Potter?”

 

“If I knew then I wouldn’t be asking.” He said as he raised his arm and rubbed it across his forehead in an almost habitual move…his arm came away wet.

 

“It looks like he has a cold, Sir, but he can’t go to Madam Pomfrey because of the other potions he’s taking. She’ll have to record them down and then the Headmaster will be able to work out what illness he has.”

 

“This is a problem?” Snape demanded.

 

“The potions make me tired, drowsy and weak.” Harry admitted. “Father thinks that if learnt, then others could take advantage of me in such a state.”

 

Snape nodded and sighed. “What are you taking and for what?” He asked as he flicked his wand over him in sharp gestures.

 

“Nutrient potions for malnutrition and bone strengthening and calcium potions to try and rectify hypocalcaemia.”

 

Snape actually managed to look surprised for a moment, Harry almost smiled at that, but he kept firm control of himself.

 

“You have hypocalcaemia and malnutrition at sixteen years old?” Snape asked.

 

Harry nodded.

 

“How severely?” Snape asked him.

 

“The Healers told me that I probably would have died before I was twenty if I had gone on undiagnosed and untreated.” He said, swiping his head again as his forehead prickled with sweat. “The nutrient potions are taken at night, but cause this awful sweating, but it usually goes by the morning and it hasn’t today. The bone strengthening potion causes awful headaches, that are usually gone by now and today it hasn’t gone and the calcium potion makes me tired and woolly headed.”

 

Snape nodded, he already knew all of that, of course he did. “How did you gain such a condition at so young an age, Potter?”

 

Harry snorted. “Adopted by the Malfoys for unspecified abuse.” He said. “The Muggles I lived with never treated me the best.”

 

Draco made a harsh, angry noise then. “Never treated you the best? Those beasts could have killed you! Why do you have to play down anything and everything that happens to you?”

 

“I don’t know how else to deal with it.” He admitted, his woolly head making him loose lipped. “How else am I supposed to deal with the fact that my only remaining blood relatives treated me so poorly that I could have died from their care?”

 

Draco blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that it’s not difficult for you.”

 

“You are alluding to very serious, severe abuse, Potter.”

 

“Not alluding to anything.” He grunted. “They locked me in a cupboard and starved me for over a decade of my life. Coming to a boarding school probably saved my life, or at least added a few years onto the end if I was going to die before I was twenty anyway.”

 

“You’re not going to anymore.” Draco told him. “That’s what the potions are for.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding, but swiped his hand yet again across his dripping forehead.

 

“I suspect that you’ve picked up a cold, Potter.” Snape told him. “An illness that causes fevers, headaches, aches and pains and tiredness. It seems as if the side effects of your potions are not going away, when truly it is just the cold making itself known. It is safe for you to take a Pepper-Up potion with the potions that you are already on. Hopefully this will knock the cold on the head and you’ll start to feel better in a few days.”

 

Harry took the beaker of potion and sighed. After this he was going to become a pro at swallowing foul potions. He knocked it back and swallowed hard, getting all of the potion down and ignoring the steam that came from his ears for several moments afterwards.

 

“I suggest, Draco, that you see your brother to his bed and leave him there.” Snape said and as easily as that they were dismissed and Blaise and Draco helped him to his feet and then made the gruelling walk back to his rooms. Or at least it was gruelling for Harry.

 

“Do you want some tea?” Draco asked, already moving to his little kitchenette and filling up his teapot.

 

Harry nodded. “Put lemon and honey in it for me, please?” He begged. “The last thing I need is a sore throat too.”

 

Blaise threw a blanket over his lap and Harry gave him a glare.

 

“What? You need to be kept warm and cosy.”

 

“I’m already sweating out my body weight.” He complained.

 

“That’s normal for sick people.” Blaise pointed out. “You need to be kept warm.”

 

Draco handed him a mug that smelt heavily of lemon and Harry chuckled as he fished out the lemon half bobbing in his cup.

 

“You’ve never had to make tea in your life, have you?” Harry grinned.

 

“Shut up, I’m trying to do something nice for you.” Draco replied, handing Blaise a mug.

 

Blaise took a sip and grimaced.

 

“That or he’s trying to poison us all.”

 

Harry laughed tiredly. Truthfully he could barely taste anything over the lingering taste of the Pepper-Up potion, but he could feel the honey as he swallowed globs of it and the amount of lemon juice caused his tongue to prickle, but he smiled and thanked Draco anyway.

 

“You need to tell Father.” Draco said. “Rabastan too.”

 

Harry shook his head then, more so at telling Rabastan than Lucius. “He has more than enough to deal with himself, without me bitching about a mere cold.”

 

“That’s not the point.” Blaise told him gently. “It’s not about who has it worse or who’s suffering the most. It’s about communication and support. He can still look after himself and give a bit of sympathy to you and you can still support his recovery while taking a bit of comfort for yourself. Just because he’s in a bad way does not mean that you can’t tell him that you have a bit of a cold and feel dreadful. Just the same as when you’re in heavy labour and he tells you that he has a bit of a headache from your screeching and that you’ve possibly broken all the fingers in his hand and to let the fuck go of it.”

 

Harry laughed at that then. “I’d kill him if he so much as mentioned having a headache when I was in labour with his child. I’ve seen women in labour on the programmes my Aunt used to watch and if I feel half the amount of pain that was etched onto their faces then the merest mention of anyone having so much as a hangnail will set me off.”

 

“Draco, I wish to be notified when the baby is actually born and not when your brother goes into labour, I will not be coming around to support either of you.” Blaise said.

 

Harry laughed again and he grinned. “I suppose it won’t be so bad.” He said. “The books I’ve read on male pregnancy have all been rather vague, so I’m not sure if I should be worried, or if I’m overinflating everything with my imagination.”

 

“You could always speak to Mother about it.”

 

“The last I knew she’d never had a male pregnancy.” Harry teased.

 

Draco snorted. “You knew exactly what I meant and it wasn’t that!”

 

“I’ll see now when we go home for Easter.” Harry nodded.

 

“Write to Father. Write to Rabastan.” Draco all but ordered.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and he picked up the letters that he was currently writing from under his coffee table. One was rather short and written in plain black ink. The other was almost a foot and a half in length and was a bright, rainbow of all different colours and shades.

 

“You have far too much fun with colour coding your letters.” Blaise observed.

 

Harry chuckled. “It really helps Rabastan. He feels so much better about himself that he can finish reading all these long letters. It really boosts his confidence.”

 

Harry dipped his quill into the black ink and he finished the letter to Lucius, mentioning offhandedly that he’d come down with a cold and that he’d seen Snape for a Pepper-Up potion after making sure that it wouldn’t interfere with any of the potions that he was already taking.

He left the letter to dry before moving on to Rabastan’s more colourful, more interesting letter, which he’d already finished and signed. He added a PS at the bottom, more like a footnote than anything, telling him about his cold, that he was going to be fine in a few days and not to worry. He left that to dry as well before fishing out two envelopes and readying his stamp seal…which was pretty awesome to play with. The goblins had fashioned it for him, after he became Lord Potter-Black, and it was quite literally a merging of house crests with both family mottos on it, the Potter’s at the top, as his birth family, the Black’s on the bottom, as his Godfather’s, and his legitimised, family. To make it official he had to use a darkened red wax and he happily blobbed some onto the first letter and stamped it, holding the seal down for a moment and then peeling it back off before doing the same to the second letter. Lucius had shown him how to do it properly when the official stamp had arrived and even he had remarked on how easily Harry had picked up on how the stamp worked…he didn’t have the heart to tell the man that it was very close to a toy to him and he enjoyed playing with it.

 

“Please tell me that you don’t leave that lying around for just anyone to pick up.” Draco sighed heavily.

 

“No, it’s kept in this case.” Harry pointed to the case that he’d taken the stamp and the official wax sticks from. “Only I can even open the top of it. Here.”

 

Harry replaced the stamp and the unused wax and closed it, before handing it over to Draco and Blaise, watching as they each tried to open the case, with their hands and then with their wands.

 

“It reads my magical signature and opens only for me. It’ll do the same to the proxy that I name too.”

 

“Who is your proxy?” Draco asked.

 

“I haven’t picked one yet. As my Husband-to-be, it really should be Rabastan, but given his fugitive status, that’s a little difficult to actually manage. So I’m actually trying to think of someone without offending the Lestranges and think of someone who I’d actually trust to listen to my wishes instead of just voting on their own desires, even against my own opinion.”

 

“Father would listen to your wishes.” Draco said immediately.

 

Harry nodded. “He’s on the maybe list. I just need to think about it a little more.”

 

“Do you want me to send off your letters for you?”

 

“Would you mind?” Harry asked, swiping his sweaty forehead again.

 

“No. I’d feel better if you stayed here and didn’t wander all the way up to the west tower.” Draco insisted. “Get back into your pyjamas and go back to sleep.”

 

Harry sighed and he nodded, handing over the two letters and standing up. Blaise had already collected up the mugs and set them in the sink. Harry saw the two of them out and then went straight to his bedroom so that he could strip off and climb into bed.

He thought that it would take him a while to drop off as it was the middle of the day, but it took barely several minutes before he was flat out and sleeping like the dead, resting his battered body and hopefully letting it recover from everything that was wrong with him.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Monday morning came far too soon for him and he batted away his blankets to try and wake himself up and he had to force himself from the bed.

He went straight to his bathroom and he jumped into the shower, to get rid of the congealed, gel-like sweat from his body. He barely remembered waking up at eight in the night to get a drink, a sandwich and to take that hellish nutrient potion, but that he remembered it vaguely made him feel better about not missing any of his potions.

He washed quickly before he got out and dried himself off. He brushed his teeth, brushed his hair before he pulled on his uniform and he had to do his tie twice to get it done up properly. He put his little teapot on his hotplate before he went into his study room and packed up what he needed, thankful that he was so organised now under the influence of Lucius Malfoy and he had set all of his books out in subject piles and all he had to do was look what subjects he had today and put the correct pile of books and parchment into his book bag. He made sure that he had parchment and a selection of inks and quills before he took his bag back out into his living room cum kitchenette in time to pull his whistling kettle from the hotplate and make himself some tea.

He took twenty minutes to himself, swallowing down his bone strengthening potion and a headache reliever, downing them both one after the other with his tea, before he slipped on his shoes, picked up his bag and made his way down to breakfast. He again chose to sit with Draco.

 

“You look better today.” Astoria told him.

 

Harry smiled weakly as his head started to split open with the side effect of the potion that he’d taken. The bone strengthening potion was definitely the worst. He could handle the sweating and the drowsy, thick headedness, but these skull splitting, brain wrenching headaches were awful and left him barely able to focus on anything.

Draco started setting him up with a glass of goat milk and some dry toast, fussing around him and Harry smiled. Draco was a good big brother, he’d be a good Father too.

Harry peeled the toast apart, tearing off the crusts and nibbling at the insides, sipping on the goat milk delicately. He abandoned the toast and picked at some fruit instead, eating most of a banana and a small bunch of grapes. Draco pushed a red grapefruit at him, already cut into wedges for him and Harry sighed, picking up each wedge and tearing out the red flesh inside.

He wiped his hands and chin on a napkin and drained the rest of his milk and then sat resting.

 

“Do you feel better?”

 

“The Pepper-Up really knocked the edge off.” He said with a weak smile. “It’s the headache that’s the worst now.”

 

“So take a headache reliever.” Daphne scoffed. “What are you, a Muggle?”

 

“I’ve already taken one and it always has little effect.” Harry growled out from between clenched teeth.

 

“Come on, let us get you to your first lesson.” Draco said gently.

 

Harry allowed himself to be escorted to his lessons and he tried to ignore the pain in his head. The day passed like a blur to him, a horrible, sweaty, achy blur. Lunch was more warming soup and a slice of brown bread, along with his calcium potion. All he wanted after that was to crawl into bed and sleep, but he had to go to his afternoon lessons instead.

He struggled through his three lessons after lunch, the half an hour break before the last lesson of the day doing absolutely nothing to make him feel any better, he was still feeling thick headed, stupid and like he’d never remember what his lessons had even been about until finally the bell rang to signal the end of the last lesson of the day and the start of dinner and he was about ready to drop.

He trudged to the Great Hall on slow, heavy feet, found Draco at the table and dropped down beside him heavily. He chose a beef stew and he nibbled at it, his appetite not really up to much. Draco stared at him worriedly and Harry sighed, knowing that he was going to send his own letter to the older Malfoys, if he hadn’t done so already. Harry would expect a visit from Lucius in the near future if Draco kept up his penchant for over exaggeration.  

He was escorted back to his rooms, but Draco left him at the door, leaving him to rest in peace, but Harry pushed off his exhaustion to grab a cup of tea and pull some homework towards him. If he didn’t keep on top of it now, then he was never going to have a moment to himself from now until the summer.

He did some of his more urgent pieces of homework and some of his easier pieces before giving in to his exhaustion.

He stood and just left everything on his coffee table as it was, only moving to stopper his ink. He grabbed a glass of juice and his nutrient potion from the cupboard and he drained the latter and gulped the former before he stripped out of his robes and uniform. He brushed his teeth, but even that was half-hearted and sluggish, before he got into loose pyjamas and he crawled into bed. It was barely nine in the night, but he didn’t care. He was exhausted and he wanted, _needed_ , some decent sleep. A good ten or eleven hours would do him, he just hoped that his night sweats didn’t wake him up in the middle of the night again, he really needed to just sleep and not wake up. He was absolutely exhausted, completely drained and he just didn’t know how to make himself feel any better. He needed to take his potions, but they were making him feel so sick…much sicker than he’d ever felt before when he hadn’t been taking them, he needed a break, that’s all. A nice, long break away from the sweating, the headaches and the drowsiness, the thick-headed woolliness, the weakness, the aches and pains throughout his whole body. He just wanted to be normal again, like he’d been back before he’d ever been diagnosed with hypocalcaemia.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> A/N: Updating today to support my readers in America by offering a small distraction and a small dip into fantasy and away from the harsh, unfair real world, even for a small while.
> 
>  
> 
> This is all for now, lovelies. I hope that you've enjoyed this chapter and that it has at least distracted you all for a little while, the next chapter will be up next week some when now, as it is already written, I just need to sort out the final edit and read through, but yes, I hope you've all enjoyed it, until next time, lovelies,
> 
>  
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X
> 
>  


	16. Memory Lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy birthday to Cathleen, one of the Facebookers, who asked for a chapter today. I hope you enjoy this one, lovelie.
> 
>  
> 
> Last Time
> 
>  
> 
> He was exhausted and he wanted, needed, some decent sleep. A good ten or eleven hours would do him, he just hoped that his night sweats didn’t wake him up in the middle of the night again, he really needed to just sleep and not wake up. He was absolutely exhausted, completely drained and he just didn’t know how to make himself feel any better. He needed to take his potions, but they were making him feel so sick…much sicker than he’d ever felt before when he hadn’t been taking them, he needed a break, that’s all. A nice, long break away from the sweating, the headaches and the drowsiness, the thick-headed woolliness, the weakness, the aches and pains throughout his whole body. He just wanted to be normal again, like he’d been back before he’d ever been diagnosed with hypocalcaemia.
> 
>  

 

Chapter Sixteen – Memory Lane

 

Every single day was dragging by so slowly and so painfully that it was a miracle that he even managed to get through all of his lessons. When the weekend actually, finally came, Harry was more than ready for some much needed peace and rest and he had told Draco that he was not going to socialise at all over the weekend. Instead he was going to stay in his rooms and just not do anything. He had even passed the scheduled Quidditch training for that weekend over to Katie Bell, as his deputy, explaining that he just wasn’t up to it this week and as soon as he’d finished a small dinner on Friday evening, he’d come straight to the fourth floor and he’d shut himself up in his rooms. He was not planning on coming back out until he had to on Monday morning.

What he hadn’t counted on was Draco getting overly worried about his behaviour and not just writing to Lucius, but floo calling him from Snape’s office. It was early afternoon on Saturday when there was a cursory knock on his door before it opened. Harry was just glad that he was lounging in his boxer-briefs on the floor today and that he wasn’t completely naked again as he’d been doing before, as Lucius stepped in, discarding his cane as soon as he had closed the door.

 

“Draco said that you were unwell. Your letter arrived yesterday morning, I had assumed that you would be better by now, how are you?” He asked immediately, coming to sit by him, on the settee, of course, Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t ever sit on the floor.

 

“I’ve felt better.” Harry said with a weak smile. “Sorry for my state of undress.” He added. “I can’t stop sweating and this is just easier than changing clothes every half an hour.”

 

“Don’t apologise for sickness.” Lucius chastised him, touching his face and grimacing as his hand came away wet.

 

“Should I apologise for that?” He asked cheekily.

 

“No. Now is this from your potions or the cold that you mentioned?”

 

“I don’t think…well, perhaps I didn’t actually have a cold, I think it’s the flu. The Pepper-Up potion knocked the edge off, but it’s still there.”

 

Lucius sighed. “I’ve brought more Pepper-Up, just in case. Here, take one now. You need six consecutive doses to cure the flu.”

 

Harry swallowed the potion handed to him and he put his head back on the settee, even as steam came out of his ears.

 

“As per usual you underestimated what you were going through and you have caused yourself more pain and suffering as a result. You said a simple cold, when you had the flu.” Lucius told him. “This needs to stop, Harry.”

 

Harry bit his lip and ducked his head.

 

“How’s Rabastan?” He asked softly.

 

“Do not change the subject. He’s fine, though now he’s overly worried about you as well, because of your track record of underestimating everything about yourself. He knew that if you said that you had a cold, you probably had the flu. I agreed with him and brought the Pepper-Up potions that you would need and low and behold, you do have the flu, as suspected.”

 

Harry scowled. “I don’t like people fussing around me.”

 

Lucius sighed. “Clearly.” He said. “You need to take these potions every several hours. The next one will be at nine in the night, the one after as soon as you wake up, then lunch time, evening and night again. Do you understand?”

 

Harry snorted. “Yeah, one with the nutrient potion tonight. Take another one with the bone strengthening potion tomorrow morning and then another one with the calcium potion at lunch, one before I eat dinner and then the last one with the nutrient potion. It really does come to something when I can schedule taking potions by pairing them with the taking of other potions, that’s all I seem to be doing lately, swallowing potions one after another.”

 

“Yes, Draco did say that you were off your food too.”

 

Harry lifted an arm to cover his eyes. “He has such a big mouth.”

 

“It’s a good thing that he mentioned it.” Lucius told him sternly. “I would expect you to come to me with any worries that you have concerning Draco too. Now, have you eaten today?”

 

Knowing that he couldn’t escape, he shook his head. “I had dinner last night, but I’ve had just tea and my potions since.”

 

Lucius nodded. “So you’ve missed breakfast and lunch and you’ve been eating minimally since last week?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“Alright. I want you to call that house elf of yours and get some soup from him, then I want you in bed.”

 

“I have too much homework to do.” He insisted.

 

Lucius looked at him and then shook his head. “Harry, I might have given you the wrong impression, but your health is much, much more important than what marks you get. Leave your homework and if you can’t get it done, then you tell me and I will make your excuses. You are trying to do too much and it needs to stop. You are seriously ill and now that you have the flu on top you are not in a good way.”

 

“I can do it, I know I can.” He insisted.

 

“I know that you can, but at what cost, Harry?” Lucius asked him seriously. “Have you been keeping up your fluid intake?”

 

Harry nodded. “Lots of tea and a glass of juice to swallow each of the potions down.”

 

“That is something at least.” Lucius sighed.

 

“I just…I suppose I don’t want to admit that what I have is going to take over my life.” Harry said softly. “I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to take things easy. I feel more sick now than I ever did before I even knew about this condition! The potions are making it worse!”

 

“No, the potions are healing you.” Lucius told him, laying a gentle hand on his damp head. “You have had this condition for years, Harry and it was only getting worse and more destructive to your body. The potions are healing the damage and healing the cause of the damage and that is clearly making you pay more attention to those areas affected most. Do you feel any pain?”

 

Harry considered the question carefully. “Not really. The headaches are incredibly bad and I get odd aches now and then, but it’s not really pain.”

 

“Your body is healing slowly, but take heed, Harry, it _is_ healing.”

 

Harry nodded. “I keep thinking of Rabastan and our future children…children that I might not be able to have if I don’t do this here and now and that’s not fair to either of us when we both want children so badly. I just don’t want to give up on my education. I don’t want to stop and focus on my health. I want to graduate and marry Rabastan. I don’t want to hold off on our marriage if I have to repeat a year!”

 

“Is this what is bothering you so much and is pushing you past what you can comfortably handle?” Lucius asked him in slight shock.

 

Harry nodded miserably.

 

Lucius sighed and he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him in to rest against his legs, petting his hair and stroking it gently.

 

“You will be married in the summer of nineteen-ninety-eight.” Lucius told him. “The Lestranges wanted you married immediately. I managed to talk Xerxes into waiting much longer than he was prepared to, just so that you had time to finish your education first, but it was decided that nineteen-ninety-eight would be the year that you were married, regardless of anything else.”

 

“So…even if I do have to repeat a year, I’ll still be married?” Harry asked, brightening up considerably, looking at Lucius’ grey eyes desperately, his own green eyes wide and pleading.

 

“Yes, Harry. With a bit of luck Rabastan will be more like his former self upon the time of your marriage, so that he can do most of the childcare, but Narcissa and I are always on hand to help, as Draco will be. If you have to repeat a year because of these unforeseen circumstances, it will not be as much of a problem when compared to this year, when you are not at full health, when Rabastan is still a shade of himself, when Draco is in school with you. I am to be a grandparent, not a primary carer, Harry. It is not fair for you to ask that I raise your child. I am more than willing to help you and Rabastan out where needed, but I will not take on your child as my own.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding. That made a lot more sense and he understood a lot more now why his wedding had been held back until he was out of school. He sighed and pushed his homework away from himself.

 

“I’ve done more than half of my set homework, but I’m not going to finish the rest.” He said. “I’m going to go to bed and rest.”

 

Lucius actually smiled at him and petted his head. “Your potions are by here, do not forget to take them. You should actually be better by this Monday now and then you can pick up your lessons again, but Harry, do not push yourself too hard.” Lucius said sternly. “You have a very serious, life threatening condition that is not going to go away by ignoring it or pushing yourself too hard. Take it a little easier and find a balance between the both, but lean it more towards your health than your school work.”

 

Harry nodded and he sighed, swiping his arm over his forehead in what was becoming a habit now and he took a deep breath.

 

“Of all the times to come down with the flu.” He bemoaned.

 

Lucius patted him again. “Think nothing of it. You will get better now and by this summer, you should be back to full health, exactly as you should be.”

 

“So, how is Rabastan, really?”

 

Lucius smirked at him. “It always comes back to him, doesn’t it?”

 

“He’s never far from my mind.” Harry grinned, lifting his ring to his lips and giving it a kiss.

 

“He is doing rather well. It seems that his short amount time looking after you has given him much more confidence and in recent weeks he has improved greatly. He cannot wait for you to come home for Easter so that he can show you his progress. He wishes to spoil you too, he is gathering the finest chocolate eggs to gift you with upon your return. Rodolphus has taken to calling him a mother hen, because of how he constantly hovers over the eggs, wondering endlessly if you’ll like them or not.”

 

Harry laughed, loudly and uninhibitedly, at the mental images that those words conjured up.

 

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that. He did the same when he proposed, hovering and worrying until I had given him my answer. It does not bode well for when I fall pregnant.” He chuckled.

 

“He is protective and willing to show it. I approve.”

 

Harry grinned. “Tell him that I miss him and that I can’t wait to see him next month. I just want February to be over with now. Oh and give him a push towards dark chocolate and orange, it’s my new favourite combination.”

 

Lucius laughed at him and patted his shoulder. “Go and get yourself into bed. Take a jug of juice with you and some books and don’t move unless you absolutely have to. You don’t have to be asleep to rest yourself. I will see Draco now and tell him to leave you be, but to come and check on you every evening.”

 

“Early evening please, I’ve taken to going to bed really early lately. I’m at my best in late afternoon, early evening.”

 

Lucius nodded. “Go now, to bed with you.”

 

Harry nodded and he stood up, he went to his kitchenette and got the full jug of pumpkin juice from his cold storage and a clean glass, he put them in his bedroom before coming back out and picking up one of the Pepper-Up potions and his nutrient potion. He took those through to his room as well and placed them on his bedside.

He went back out one last time to say goodbye to Lucius, who was just picking up his cane, and Harry saw him out politely and then he sighed wearily as he was left to himself. He truly hoped that this course of potions finally worked and knocked the flu on the head by Monday. He was just so fed up of feeling sick now, he was more than ready to start feeling better and healthier and as a result, much happier too.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Lucius arrived back to his Manor home later that evening, after spending some time with Draco as well as checking in on Harry, and he sighed happily as soon as he was embraced warmly by his wife.

 

“Were Draco’s concern’s valid?” She asked him as a greeting, as he knew that she would do. She was always very protective of those she considered as ‘hers’ and that naturally now included Harry. Harry who was very sick and needed more support than originally thought if he had tried to brush off such a serious illnesses and had downplayed the flu as a mere cold.

 

Lucius noticed Rabastan sit forward more, and he made sure to project his voice for all to hear as he would in a Wizengamot meeting.

 

“They were valid, as was feared, and once again, as he has proven time and time again, Harry has downplayed how unwell he truly was. You were correct in this observation, Rabastan. He has been struggling through the last week with the flu.”

 

Rabastan growled and rubbed his head. “I knew he should have stayed here with me for longer! He wasn’t ready to go back to school.”

 

“He said something rather interesting too. He told me that he was exhausting himself, despite being so sick, because he was terrified of having to repeat a year, because he thought that it would mean waiting an extra year to marry you.”

 

Rabastan’s blue eyes widened. “He said that?”

 

“He did, almost word for word. I put him straight of course. I made him see that his health was much more important, but it would likely mean more to him coming from you as well, to put weight behind the notion.”

 

Rabastan nodded his agreement. “I shall include such reassurances in my current letter to him.”

 

“How he gets so sick but still manages to suck on chocolate is beyond me.” Lucius sighed, shaking his head, playing a little on Harry’s behalf. “He’s gotten a fondness for the sophistication of dark chocolate it seems, a thing I welcome, but he ruins it by buying the chocolate with orange pieces in it.” He shook his head again. “I will never understand that boy.”

 

Lucius noticed Rabastan’s look and he knew then that Harry was going to have yet another egg added to the nest of them. This would make the sixth and not one of them could be called small. Harry was going to be eating chocolate for the next few months at least, not that Lucius believed that Harry would complain about it, just the opposite in fact.

 

“Does he look alright, though?” Narcissa asked.

 

“He looked as I expected him to look when Draco brought his concerns to me.” Lucius insisted. “Rather tired and worn down, a bit paler than usual and he was damp to the touch, but he was coherent and determined. He’s going to be just fine. We can appraise him more fully when he comes home for two weeks in March. He’s looking forward to that, it doesn’t need three guesses to know why.” He said with a smirk at Rabastan, who smiled happily at hearing that.

 

“Greyback visited while you were away.” Xerxes cut in, now that they knew that Harry was going to be alright given some more time and needed potions.

 

“Of course he did.” Lucius sighed. “I expect him for two days and then the moment I slip out for a few hours to check upon my sons, that is when he chooses to visit. Did he take the list?”

 

“I made sure to give it to him.” Xerxes nodded.

 

“You made sure that he knew the one name was just to frighten and not to maim?” Lucius asked.

 

“I did, of course. I will follow our Lord’s orders to the letter, Lucius. You know I would.”

 

Lucius nodded. “Good. I will inform our Lord that the list has been passed over to Greyback and await further instructions.”

 

“Did you ever find out why he came to our New Year’s Ball, Lucius?” Narcissa asked him. She had not been best pleased that he had turned up at all, though she was at least mollified that he had come in decent robes and had actually washed himself for once.

 

“He was curious of Harry.” Lucius sighed. “He has heard much about him and with our Lord making sure that all of us understood that he is not to be touched or harmed in any way, he wanted to see Harry for himself.”

 

“I don’t think he made a good impression.” Rodolphus laughed.

 

“He frightened Harry needlessly. I won’t have it.” Rabastan replied tightly, one hand clenching into a fist that made his knuckles crack as he thought back to how unsettled Harry had been and how he had pressed closer to him for protection. He had loved that Harry had done as such, that he had still seen him as someone who could protect him despite his obvious physical weaknesses, and the very important fact that Harry could protect himself and had proven as such over and over, culminating in the way that he had handled Rowle in the bathroom of this very Manor.

 

“Harry has a soft head and a softer heart, he’ll learn.” Rodolphus insisted.

 

“I don’t want him to!” Rabastan growled. “I want him to stay as he is!”

 

Rodolphus scoffed. “Our Lord has no use for him as he is.”

 

Rabastan’s blue eyes flashed dangerously. “Harry wants to remain neutral, Rodolphus.” He said slowly and clearly. “Our Lord has accepted this, as long as Harry doesn’t oppose him or get in the way of his plans, he is content to let Harry be neutral. Are you going to go against our Lord? Do you think that you know better than he does?”

 

“Of course not!” Rodolphus snapped back immediately, furiously.

 

“That is what you are alluding to!” Rabastan said furiously. “Harry is to remain neutral, as per our Lord’s wishes! Leave him well alone about such things, Rodolphus.” 

 

“That is enough.” Xerxes cut in sternly.

 

“I just meant that it would be better if he were to fight with us!” Rodolphus explained.

 

“It took us a while to convince him that he wasn’t going to be handed over or killed outright.” Lucius said mildly. “He was very nervous and suspicious when he first came to live with us, but he has consented to being neutral so easily because, at the heart of himself, he truly does not want to fight. He has never wanted to fight and he does not see this war as his own.”

 

“His parents fought! They died in this war, how can he say that it is not his own?” Rodolphus asked.

 

“He does not hold his parents’ decisions as his own.” Rabastan said proudly. “He said that they had every right to choose to fight in a war, but he has an equal right to choose not to fight in it if that’s what he feels is best, despite them choosing to fight themselves. He says that just because they died does not mean that he has to automatically fight for their cause or take their decision to his heart as his own and he’s absolutely right, he doesn’t have to do anything that he doesn’t want to, he is a free man, allowed to make such choices for himself.”

 

“He is surprisingly mature for his young years, but the more I hear about the Muggle beasts that he was housed with, the less surprised I find myself when he shows such maturity.” Xerxes sighed. “Most abused children grow old before they are meant to and I am sure that this is what has happened with Harry.”

 

“It is impossible to rectify.” Lucius said sadly. “We cannot remove years of abuse and pain, but we can show him some decency and allow him to make his own decisions and have his own say in such things. He is not a young, clueless boy, he is rather switched on for his age. I have taken to treating him like an adult when needed, not least because he needs to present as such to the Wizengamot, but because he has earnt that level of respect and consideration with his own actions.”

 

“A truly wonderful job that you’ve done too, Lucius.” Xerxes insisted.

 

“I cannot take all the credit for that, Xerxes. He came to me thoughtful, curious and full of questions. I merely guided him and educated him in the things that he needed to know. All of his cutting, scathing remarks are all his own.”

 

Xerxes chuckled then. “And some of them are truly golden. I love some of the things that he comes out with off the top of his head.”

 

“He is certainly coming into his own.” Lucius smiled. “I am very proud of him.”

 

“As you should be, he is very well rounded and intelligent in his own right. He’s going to make a most wonderful addition to the family and it pleases me that he was worried that his illness would mean an extra year before his marriage, but make sure that he understands that his health truly is the most important thing here. He can’t marry anyone if he has died.”

 

“Don’t say such things, Grandfather.” Rabastan growled immediately, furiously. “He’s not going to die! He’s going to be just fine!”

 

“He is yes.” Lucius agreed. “But for a Healer appointment that Harry never wanted to go to in the first place, things might have been devastatingly different. If he hadn’t gone to that check-up, then he would have most assuredly died, either from the complications of the hypocalcaemia or from trying to have his first child.”

 

Rabastan did not like hearing that. His face fell into a sneer and he swallowed hard, before standing and excusing himself. He left the Malfoy’s Manor to go to his Grandfather’s to finish his letter to Harry, avoiding his poisonous Father when he heard the man speaking in one of the front rooms.

He wanted to remind his Fiancé that they both needed to take potions to get better, he wanted Harry to know that he wasn’t alone in his struggle to take several potions daily. He wanted Harry to know that he was supported, that he knew exactly what Harry was going through and that he was not ever alone in this, that he was so proud of how far he had come and that he had to keep it up to get better, as he did himself.

He loved Harry so much and it had only been a relatively short amount of time. It had been six months since the betrothal contract had been signed and accepted on both sides. Six months since they had first met one another and he had believed himself looking upon the most beautiful boy that he’d ever seen before as he sat next to Harry…Harry who had come to calm him when he’d been panicking and looking for Rodolphus to tell him what to do, Harry who had placed his soft, gentle hands in his own and had pulled him with him like a guiding light in the vast sea of darkness, showing him what to do without judgement or scorn.

He still remembered the feel of those soft, silky hands on his own rough, calloused hands with his peeling, dry skin and his brittle, discoloured nails. He’d been disgusted with himself ever since he’d seen what he’d become when he’d first looked into a mirror after his liberation. He’d been embarrassed and humiliated to meet his only suitor since his escape looking and behaving how he did, but he remembered clearly the understanding smile and the bright eyes that looked at him unflinchingly. He remembered the quiet voice speaking to him, defending him, as if he was a person, as if he was actually worth something. Harry had been the most beautiful person to him in that moment and he’d been drawn to him so strongly because of his gentleness and kindness, because of his smile and his beautiful eyes. The more he got to know about Harry, the more he wanted to protect him and shelter him. He loved him and the happiest day of his life had been when Harry had told him ‘yes’ and he had gotten to slide the ring that he had fashioned himself onto Harry’s tiny, slim finger. It would be topped, he was sure, when he and Harry were finally married and then again when Harry laid their perfect, firstborn child in his arms. He couldn’t wait for those days to come.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was absolutely fine by that next Monday and the next week was a lot easier for him to trundle through. He still had to take his potions for the hypocalcaemia and the malnutrition, but he no longer had the flu and he wasn’t aching or sweating as much or suffering any longer now that the course of Pepper-Up potions had done their job and knocked the flu on the head.

He had cut down drastically on his homework too, he had on average fifty percent less work to do than his year mates. Where they would get two pieces of homework, he only had one, when they had three pieces, he had one piece and an additional piece that was usually something very easy. Far from being upset or angry, his Professors were actually relieved that he had asked for a lighter workload. They had been so worried as he walked around looking like he was already half dead, they knew that he’d been taken out of school for a week because he’d been so very ill, too ill for Madam Pomfrey to deal with even, and when he’d come back he was downing potions left and right, looking like he hadn’t slept in a month and only getting worse as he forced himself to do all his classwork and then all of his homework too. They were happy for him to do less homework, as long as his classwork was still up to standard and it was, and he could show that he understood what was being taught to him and he could. They were glad that he was looking better and they actually held him back at the end of his lessons to tell him so too.

Today was a Saturday, a very special Saturday as he had donned a Slytherin hat and scarf and he was sat in the bleachers, right at the front so that Draco could see him, as he watched Slytherin versus Ravenclaw.

It was already a dirty game only twenty minutes in, with snow thick on the ground, and Slytherin up to their usual tricks. Draco had almost begged him to stay in the castle, worried that his recent bout of flu would make an unwelcomed reappearance. Harry had refused, insisting that he wouldn’t miss watching him play over the fears of maybe catching the flu again. He’d told Draco sternly that he would not live his life in fear of airborne viruses.

He had, however, made sure that he’d wrapped up really warm for his excursion outside, just in case, so he had on a thick jumper, his thickest winter robes that had a warming charm on them and his black, sheepskin gloves. He had the Slytherin scarf wrapped tight about his throat and the hat jammed on his head, low over his ears.

Slytherin were steamrollering Ravenclaw, naturally, and Harry cheered happily as Slytherin scored yet again. Now if only Draco would catch the snitch then he could get back into the warm and out of the sharp, biting wind.

He cheered again as Slytherin scored another ten points, then one of the Ravenclaw Beaters smashed a Bludger into one of the Slytherin Chasers and the green and sliver player fell down into the snow. Harry was just glad that it wasn’t Draco. Or Blaise he supposed, who was a Chaser himself.

Urquhart got nasty then, or rather he got nastier than he’d been before, and he blatantly fouled the Beater who’d taken out one of his Chasers. Madam Hooch blew her whistle shrilly and awarded Ravenclaw an obvious penalty and Ravenclaw managed to claw back ten, much needed, points.

The game lasted for another fifty minutes, the sky getting greyer as more snow clouds rolled in as the biting wind picked up and it got much colder, and when Draco finally caught the snitch Harry was about ready to head back to bed. All the jumping around and cheering he’d done to support Draco in his match had tired him out and all he wanted now was a nice, rich hot chocolate and a blazing fire to park his arse in front of with a book and a blanket.

He got no such thing as he was pulled along by Theo to the Slytherin common room to join in on their after party.

 

“You look good in green and silver, hold on, I want a picture to prove that you wore this.” Theo insisted and Harry laughed but happily posed with Theo, smiling widely as Theo took the picture with his wand.

 

“Harry!”

 

He turned with a grin towards Astoria, her own blonde hair tucked under a green and silver hat, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red from the cold and she giggled lightly in that tinkling way of hers.

 

“I can’t believe that you wore a Slytherin hat and scarf to the match, what will the Gryffindors think?”

 

“Who cares?” Harry answered with his own laugh. “They already hate my guts, what difference will this make?”

 

Draco was there then, still in his Quidditch robes, but now washed off and warm again, and he forced his way through the cheering Slytherins to him and Harry grinned at him before he was pulled into a rough hug. Draco cupped his cheek and chin and forced eye contact.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked lowly.

 

Harry nodded. “I feel completely fine. I’m a bit cold, but I’ll warm up soon.” He insisted and Draco stared at him hard for a few more moments, trying to detect any hint of deception or lies, before he nodded and grinned himself.

 

Blaise found his way over to them, also still in his Quidditch robes, and he clapped Draco on the back. “I thought you’d never catch that snitch!” He chuckled. “My arse was frozen to the broomstick!”

 

“I was beginning to fear the same.” Draco chuckled.

 

“Harry, green and silver look good on you. You should wear them more often.” Blaise told him.

 

“Theo said the same.” Harry laughed. “I’m sure it’s because my eyes are green, it picks out the colour more clearly, am I right, Astoria?” He asked, drawing her into the conversation, she had been fluttering off to the side, unsure if she should stay or leave the ‘guys’ to their celebration.

 

As soon as her name was mentioned, Draco turned happily to search for her and he pulled her into a hug, placing a gentle kiss to her smooth forehead and Harry’s eyes widened to see it. Perhaps Draco was actually falling in love with Astoria without forcing anything. Maybe all they’d needed was a push towards one another, just to get the ball rolling so that they could each see the potential in the other.

 

“You’re right.” She said, even as she beamed up at Draco. “If you wore anything green then it would immediately pick out the colour of your eyes. You’d need a nice, darker green though, maybe a shade or two darker or lighter than your eyes if you want them to really stand out. Anything lighter than a few shades would clash though and would draw attention away from them.”

 

The Slytherin party was rather muted and refined. Not least because none of them knew where the kitchens were and they had no party food. Harry almost felt sorry for them.

It didn’t last long before they all started winding down, Harry had been included in so many photos, for proof that he was wearing Slytherin colours, everyone insisted as he grinned and posed happily as his picture was taken again and again. The one that he made sure that he got a copy of was of him, Draco, Blaise, Theo and Astoria. He wanted to send it to Lucius and Narcissa. He knew that Draco wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing, but Harry would.

 

“My hair is a mess!” Draco complained when Harry got his copy and waved it at him.

 

“You look fine you bloody poser!” Harry giggled as he stared at the photo. He was still wearing the hat and scarf in the photo, but he had finally warmed up now and they were tucked into the pockets of his robes. The pink flush to his cheeks was now from warmth, not from the biting cold or the blustery wind.

 

He said his goodbyes several minutes later and immediately Draco went into protective older brother mode.

 

“I don’t want you going up to the fourth floor alone.” He insisted.

 

“I’m fine, Draco. I’m not going to be suddenly overwhelmed with the flu virus and collapse between here and the fourth floor.” Harry replied.

 

“What if you run into anyone?”

 

“Need I remind you that I’m the best in our year at Defence?” He said dryly. “I can look after myself and I’ll be just fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, enjoy the rest of your victory party.”

 

Harry took his leave and, as he’d said to Draco, he reached his rooms perfectly fine and he didn’t see anyone who tried to stop him.

He took the small bunch of photos from his robe pocket and he looked at the photos in his hands and he grinned, copying two of them, the one of all of them together and one of just him and Draco, taken late into the party almost as he’d been leaving, after he’d removed the hat and scarf. His hair was extra messy because of the hat, but both he and Draco were smiling, their arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning happily. Even as he watched, the photo of himself waved and turned to smile at photo Draco.

Harry chuckled and slipped them both into the envelope with his weekly update to Lucius, who had asked him to keep in touch because of his potions and what Lucius called his ‘delicate health’. He would send it now tomorrow, once he’d finished his letter to Rabastan, which he was still writing. He was going to add the Quidditch match he’d watched today and the after party too. He included a copy of a single photo that Astoria had shyly handed to him, she’d taken it at the actual match and photo Harry was on his feet, cheering and yelling, grinning a smile bigger than Harry had thought possible. His cheeks were red from the cold, the tail of his scarf was being buffered by the wind and he had a hand up, holding his hat to his head, even as he jumped and cheered.

He laughed at himself and shook his head, putting the photo to the side. He hoped that it would help to reassure Rabastan that he was alright and that he wasn’t actually at death’s door, even after his recent bout of flu, as he pulled a nice, rich, dark blue ink towards himself along with his quill and the half-finished letter and he started a new paragraph.

 

‘Today was a good day.’ He started. ‘The Quidditch match was fun, but cold! Slytherin won, of course. They steamrollered Ravenclaw 380 to 120, so Draco is in a very good mood for once. I was dragged to the after party, if that could even be called a party, I had more fun at Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party when I was twelve! They don’t even know where the kitchens are to get food! Who doesn’t know where the kitchens are or how to get into them?! I’ve enclosed a photo that Astoria took at the match, I hope you like it…’

 

He got lost in his letter, pouring out his thoughts and feelings into his letter, jotting down his random musings, acting like he was sat talking to Rabastan more than writing him a letter and he had fun switching up the colours, going from blue to yellow, from yellow to red, from red to green, from green to silver, (it amused him to put in the Slytherin colours one after the other, especially after the Quidditch match that day), from silver to black and then to pale purple and finishing on orange. His letters flowed more like a rainbow these days, since he’d started a collection of such brightly coloured inks of vastly differing shades, but he didn’t care and he actually thought they were rather creative in a way. He’d started writing them for Rabastan, to help him to read his letters without worry or panic, but it had come to mean something to him too, it made him feel better to know that he was helping Rabastan’s recovery in whatever small way that he could. Rabastan had actually told him in his last letter that Harry’s way of writing and formatting his letters was helping him to focus his mind more and he could now read further with plain text because he was more used to reading and he could get his brain to stay focused on the words for longer. All because Harry had had the thought to set out his letters like a rainbow. Rabastan had told him that he was more thankful for that than Harry could ever know, but Harry had an idea of how much it meant to Rabastan just from reading his words.

He finished off his letter and signed it as Lucius had taught him to do, with a clear, cursive form of his name. On official documents it would be H. Potter-Black, but for a personal letter to his Fiancé, he signed it as just Harry.

He had more fun than he was probably meant to stamping his seal onto the back of the envelopes to close them, but life was full of such small pleasures and nibbles of happiness that made him smile and if using a brass stamp to put his official seal into wax was one of them, well, it was no one else’s business.

Harry got a small bowl of soup from his cold storage, that he’d asked Dobby to bring him the other day when Lucius had visited, but of course the little elf had over done it and now Harry was living off of the soup so that he didn’t have to go down to dinner, of which he’d missed because he was too busy writing his letters.

It was late now too, so he got a cup of tea for himself, ate his soup with some bread, took his nutrient potion and then got himself right into bed. He’d again dressed in loose fitting clothes so that he could help himself to sleep a little better, and for longer, by preparing for his night sweats. He would take a nice long bath in the morning before he sent his letters off and went to breakfast. Marcus would be here tomorrow to tutor him and Harry couldn’t wait to show him the little note that Professor Babbling had put on his latest essay about how much he had improved and how impressed she was with his phenomenal progress. Harry had no doubts who was truly to thank for such progress and his actual understanding of the work and he believed that Marcus needed to know about it.

He smiled to himself right before he fell asleep, who would have ever thought that Marcus Flint of all people could be a really intelligent, competent teacher? It just went to show that you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover. Marcus had been the ‘thick headed troll’ for as long as Harry had known him, only compounded by the fact that he had been held back a year and not allowed to graduate. None of them had known the reason for that, they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed that he was too stupid and had gotten a T in all his exams and they’d thought nothing more about it. Harry wanted to show Marcus how brilliant he was and how adept he was at teaching, even if he was vulgar, mildly abusive and very impatient, he got results and Harry was going to show him that despite his rather unorthodox method, with the right student, he could teach others his love and passion for Ancient Runes successfully.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

As soon as things started to go right for him again and he had started to settle back down after his bout of flu, Dumbledore stuck his nose into his business yet again.

Harry tried to keep calm, remembering what Lucius had said about accepting the ‘reconciliation meetings’ in order to spy on the Headmaster. He hadn’t been happy about that, but he also remembered the thought that he’d had at the time, that just because he heard such information didn’t mean that he had to pass it on. He could pass his own judgement and do what he thought was best. So when the order to go to the Headmaster’s office came, he squashed the automatic sense of anger and the irritation that his study time was being cut short. He instead prepared himself as he would for a Wizengamot meeting, locking away as much emotion as he could, holding his body in perfect posture and breathing nice and deep, slow and calmly.

He spoke the password (acid pops) to the stone gargoyle before standing on the winding stairs, letting them take him up instead of climbing the stairs himself, he still wasn’t well, he wasn’t going to exhaust himself needlessly.

He knocked on the door and politely waited to be bid to enter. He kept his face nicely blank as he opened the door and he took a seat without being asked…well his politeness would only stretch so far after all, this _was_ the man who had tried to take the heritage, that his parents had wanted him to have, away from him and had been presiding over his estate while he’d been in the dark about its very existence.

 

“You asked to see me.” He stated calmly.

 

“I did, Harry, yes.” Dumbledore said, looking at him consideringly. “How are you?”

 

“I’m well enough, thank you.” He said blandly.  

 

“Still taking your potions?”

 

“I am.” He said, offering no more information.

 

“Are you getting better?”

 

Harry nodded his head curtly, just the once, refusing to answer verbally. He’d learnt this trick from Lucius, to get less verbal with each question to convey disinterest in a subject without outright saying it out loud.

 

“To the nature of your visit then.” Dumbledore said softly.

 

Harry wanted to scoff at that…a visit implied that he was here by choice or that he had come without being told, but he didn’t, he kept a hold of himself. Instead he pulled his ‘Lord’ persona around himself tighter and kept his face nicely blank.

 

“These meetings are going to teach us about Voldemort.” Dumbledore told him.

 

Harry sighed then. “I have told you already that I’m not going to fight in this war.”

 

“Yes, but I am hoping that these meetings will change your mind, Harry. I know that you want him gone as much as I do, but it has to be you who strikes the final blow.”

 

“I don’t see why.” Harry said tightly.

 

“Perhaps you will come to understand soon, with the help of these lessons.” Dumbledore replied. “We are running low on time. I had wanted to start these meetings in September, to pace them out a little more for clarity, but now we have lost the luxury of time.”

 

Harry stared at the Pensieve as Dumbledore stood and moved over to it and he warred with himself. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He had no idea how a Pensieve worked or if they could trap someone inside of them. He swallowed and decided that if he did go missing then Lucius would look everywhere for him, turning over every book and drawer and hunting through hell and high water for him. He’d told Draco exactly where he was going, despite being told, rather seriously, to keep these meetings strictly to himself, so if he was kidnapped, then he fully expected Draco to tell Lucius and his Father to come and rescue him.

 

“What’s in there?” He asked despite himself.

 

“We are going on a trip down Bob Ogden’s memory lane. We have quite a bit to do tonight, Harry, so if you will.” Dumbledore indicated the Pensieve and Harry took a deep breath and pushed his face to the strange partial liquid, partial gas substance inside the Pensieve.

 

Harry focused intently on the memory when he landed in it, on his feet, looking around what Dumbledore had called Little Hangleton. He memorised as much as he could, just in case he wanted to pass the information on. He stored it all, thankful that the wooziness of the calcium potion he’d taken several hours ago had worn off, allowing him to think rationally and store the information that he was viewing.

They followed Bob Ogden, whose glasses were worse than Harry’s old round, black framed ones from before his adoption, and who was wearing a one-piece swimming costume which he had chosen to wear with a frock coat over the top of it and paired with spats. Harry shook his head at the stupidity of the wizarding born.

Harry couldn’t help the disgusted sneer when he saw what had become of the Gaunt’s, however. He looked at the little shack, complete with a snake nailed to the front door like a grisly, caricature knocker, and the people who lived there. It must have been the inbreeding of the Purebloods that had reduced them to this sorry state. Morfin Gaunt had thick, matted hair that Harry couldn’t determine the colour of, his eyes were small and dark and looked in opposite directions and he had several missing teeth. Looking at the state of the shack, Harry could well imagine that these people lacked the excess funds for a dose of Skele-gro. Marvolo Gaunt was strangely ill proportioned, with too wide shoulders and overly-long arms. He looked like a powerful, aged monkey to Harry as he listened to the spiel coming from their mouths, the abuse for Muggles, the disdain of Muggleborns, the Pureblood supremacy trope. He understood their comments in Parseltongue and he tried to look past all of that to retain the important information.

When he saw Merope, who looked much like her brother with dull, lank hair and eyes that looked in opposite directions, then to the introduction of Tom Riddle and his lady friend Cecilia, he started to piece things together and he paid even closer attention.

When they finally came out of the Pensieve, the memory having ended, Harry sat in quiet contemplation until Dumbledore interrupted his thought process.

 

“Do you understand what you’ve just seen, Harry?”

 

“Yes.” He said, still thinking hard.

 

“Would you care to share?”

 

“That was Voldemort’s family. The last of the Gaunt’s.” Harry said. “Tom Riddle is his Father, Merope Gaunt his Mother. I just don’t understand how they even got together to have a baby…unless, she was a witch after all, wasn’t she? She wasn’t actually a squib as her Father claimed.”

 

“No. No she was not. When her Father and brother were imprisoned, she found herself free for the first time and her magic flourished.”

 

“She bewitched him then. Tom Riddle, I mean. Her magic came back, or wasn’t being suppressed anymore, and that was what she chose to do with it, bewitch a poor, defenceless Muggle into loving her?”

 

“By means of a love potion.” Dumbledore nodded before telling him what became of Merope Gaunt, giving birth on the steps of an orphanage after being left by her Husband when she had taken him off of the love potion in the misguided belief that he would stay with her for the baby’s sake.

 

“That’s sick and wrong.” Harry sneered. “No wonder he left her when he came to his senses and didn’t want anything to do with the baby afterwards. At the end of the day it was rape. She raped him by magical means and then what, expected him to stay afterwards?!”

 

He shook his head and thought harder. That baby born would have been Voldemort.

 

“If you would like to move on?” Dumbledore asked and Harry looked up. He nodded.

 

The next memory was one of Dumbledore’s own. Of the day he’d gone to see Tom Riddle with his Hogwarts letter in the orphanage. Again Harry watched closely, retaining all information given. Particularly the bit of information that the young Tom Riddle had liked to keep trophies from his ‘victims’ of his young, budding magic.

After that memory had ended, they’d gone into a third memory, this one was from an older Morfin Gaunt, whose unkempt hair had grown down over his eyes and mouth since his release from Azkaban. Harry wanted to be sick just looking at him and the state of the shack that he still lived in, sleeping amongst rotted food and unwashed plates with no Merope there to do everything for him like a house-elf.

He saw the sixteen year old Tom Riddle and Harry once again paid very close attention, looking at the scene in front of him and processing the information and memorising all that he could.

Once done with this third memory, Harry was tired and it was very late. He listened as Dumbledore told him about Voldemort’s school years, how brilliant and clever he was, how seemingly perfect and handsome. Harry listened quietly as Dumbledore told him that Tom Riddle was obsessed with his heritage, that he was horrified to learn that he was a half-blood, that his Father had been a Muggle. Harry was then told how he’d stunned his Uncle Morfin, went to the Riddle house and killed his Father and Grandparents before framing his Uncle for the murders and taking the last relic of his family, the Gaunt family ring. Harry’s head hurt and he couldn’t prevent the next yawn, having been able to politely suppress all the ones previously.

 

“Are you feeling alright, Harry?”

 

Harry nodded. “I apologise, but recently I have not been staying up this late.” He confided.

  

“We shall leave things here for now, then.” Dumbledore told him and Harry nodded.

 

He stood and said his goodbyes. He hurried back to his rooms and he immediately pulled out parchment, ink and a quill and he wrote down every single bit of information that he’d heard tonight, even that which seemed irrelevant to him at the moment, and then he jotted down his immediate thoughts on the matter, what he’d thought at the time, his immediate reaction to all that he’d seen and what he’d learnt. Tomorrow he would go back over it and think more deeply about everything and see what his thoughts were then and if they’d changed in the light of a new day, but for now it was much too late and he needed to get some much needed sleep. It was nearing midnight before he managed to take his nutrient potion with a glass of juice and finally climb into bed, utterly drained and exhausted. Tomorrow was going to be particularly brutal on him because of this little late night trip down Voldemort’s past life, he was not going to get any better, or healthier, if he kept up these late nights.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The knock on effect of his very late night lasted into the first week of March, which wasn’t helped at all by a second meeting with Dumbledore and another incredibly late night, just as he’d been getting better and back into a routine, and he was seriously contemplating missing the Quidditch match that Saturday. It was just that he was at his limit, he was too tired, feeling worn out and downtrodden, but when Blaise wholeheartedly agreed that he should miss the match when he’d voiced his thoughts on the matter to him and Draco, he had scowled.

 

“You’ve done it now, Blaise.” Draco groaned. “You’ve set off that innate stubbornness! You should have just shut up and not said anything.”

 

Blaise scowled and crossed his arms. “Forgive me for wanting Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup just once while we’re here!”

 

“If you don’t feel well enough, Harry, and you obviously don’t or you wouldn’t have mentioned it, then don’t play.” Draco tried.

 

Harry shook his head. “It’ll be alright, I’m just tired.” He insisted. “Maybe I should start taking naps during the day.”

 

Draco gave Blaise a look that clearly said that this was all his fault before turning back to Harry.

 

“You never said what Dumbledore wanted yesterday.”

 

“The same as he wanted in February. Those stupid reconciliation meetings, we’re having one once a month.” Harry said, thinking back to the two memories that he’d been shown last night, a memory from a house-elf named Hokey, whose mistress, Hepzibah Smith, had been visited by Tom Riddle and she had shown him two of her most treasured possessions, Hufflepuff’s cup and Slytherin’s locket. The same locket that Merope had sold before her baby had been born. Harry had seen Tom Riddle’s eyes flash red, and so had Hepzibah. She had given the locket and cup back to the house-elf, Hokey, for her to lock away sharpish…not that it had done much as Dumbledore had informed him after that particular memory had ended that just two days later Hepzibah Smith had been found dead and Hokey had been convicted of poisoning her in the confusion of her old age. Like with Morfin Gaunt, Tom Riddle had committed murder and he had successfully framed someone else to get what he had wanted.

 

‘He’s collecting things that remind him of his magical heritage.’ Harry had thought at the time.

 

The other memory had been another of Dumbledore’s. Of when Tom Riddle, calling himself Voldemort openly now, had come to Hogwarts seeking the Defence Against the Dark Arts position at the school. A position that Dumbledore, then the Headmaster, had denied him.

Harry was still trying to piece everything together and what learning about Voldemort would mean, or at least why he was being forced to do so.

 

“Has he changed your mind yet?” Blaise asked with a grin.

 

Harry scoffed. “It’s a complete waste of time.” He said. “I’d much rather be sleeping.”

 

“What do you talk about?” Draco asked.

 

Harry shook his head. “I won’t bore you with the details.” He insisted firmly. “I’ve had to go through it once, I don’t want to do it twice.”

 

“So, you won’t be fit for the match in a few days?” Blaise pestered.

 

“I will, I just need to get some more sleep. I might cut back a bit more on my homework.” He said, not liking the idea, but he needed a break from school work for a while, a Quidditch match was going to do the trick. If he felt at all ill on the day, or even during the match, then he would call a time out and substitute himself. He wasn’t going to take any chances, he had a lot more to live for these days and he didn’t want to upset Rabastan or incur Lucius’ wrath if he ended up fainting, vomiting or breaking a bone.

 

“I will help you catch up afterwards.” Draco said.

 

“Don’t help him!” Blaise cried.

 

Draco laughed. “He’s still my brother, Blaise. He supported us against Ravenclaw, we have to support him now against Hufflepuff.”

 

Blaise didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded anyway.

 

“He did look cute in a Slytherin hat and scarf.” Blaise chuckled. “I kept a picture.”

 

“For what purpose?” Harry asked seriously.

 

“It’s in one of my albums.” Blaise said, holding his hands up. “I like you, but it’s hardly a nude pic. Though if you want to give me a nude pic then I wouldn’t object to it.”

 

Harry laughed, but Draco growled protectively and glared at his best friend.

 

“No, no one gets a naked picture of me.” Harry said. “Not even Rabastan.”

 

“Oh, your dirty letters haven’t progressed that far yet, have they?” Draco grumped.

 

Harry winked. “Not just yet, maybe next year.” He giggled.

 

He had to laugh at the twin looks of shock that were being sent at him.

 

“I’ll be seventeen in the next school year.” He pointed out. “A legal adult.”

 

“And your first action as a legal adult will be to send naked photos of yourself?”

 

Harry grinned. “It’s not like I’ll be putting them on the front page of the Prophet.” He chuckled. “Rabastan is my Fiancé and he will be my Husband and the Father to my children, why not send him naked, alluring photos?”

 

“If we are staying on this topic, then I’m leaving.”

 

“It’s almost curfew anyway.” Harry said. “Thank you for helping me sort out my latest mountain of homework.”

 

“Of course, if you need help after the match as well, just ask.” Draco said. “You’re a Malfoy too, if you fail, you make me look bad by comparison.”

 

Harry just grinned. He saw the two of them out and then went back to his settee. He made more tea for himself and then pulled out his notes on the meetings that he was having with Dumbledore, looking through the sheaves of parchment he had, trying to figure out what it all meant.

As usual Dumbledore wasn’t being very forth coming with information, so Harry was trying to figure it out for himself.

So far all he had was that Tom Riddle in the orphanage had been a kleptomaniac who had taken toys and things from the other children and that he was possibly still taking things, such as the cup and locket from Hepzibah Smith and the Gaunt ring that he’d taken from Morfin.

Other than that he’d gotten a need to feel individual and unique, the desire to know his own heritage and the obsession with blood purity and his fury over finding out that his Father was a Muggle. It had made Harry wonder if Tom hadn’t killed his Father and his Grandparents purely for being Muggles, so that no one would ever be able to find out that he was related to them.

He nibbled on his quill, trying to make a link between everything and the objects that Voldemort was now ‘collecting’ opposed to his youthful self. Mainly Slytherin’s locket and Hufflepuff’s cup. Relics of the founders. Physical ties to magic and to Hogwarts, something to remind him that he belonged at Hogwarts, that he was magical and not a Muggle like his Father and Grandparents. It stood to reason that he would have sought out other relics of the founders too, so he jotted down something of Gryffindor’s and something of Ravenclaw’s too. He, of course, remembered Gryffindor’s sword. He wondered if Voldemort hadn’t tried to ‘collect’ that too. If the sword was the only relic of Gryffindor’s left, then Voldemort obviously didn’t have it.

He tapped the quill against his lips and thought hard about it. He put the sword next to the something of Gryffindor’s and circled it. If Voldemort wanted it, Harry could easily get it, it was up in Dumbledore’s office after all and he still had the Marauder’s Map and his invisibility cloak. It might keep his family safer if he gave Voldemort something that he’d obviously been searching for since his teen years.

Giving up on his train of thought for the night, Harry packed everything away, stood up and stretched. He then went to his potions cupboard and grabbed his nutrient potion and a glass of juice, drained them both and then he went to bed. He’d been given more than enough to think about over the last few weeks. Now he just had to survive until the twenty-second, when he could go home and spend two blissful weeks with Rabastan. He couldn’t wait.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The eighth of March brought sunshine and determination in equal measure. Harry had woken up covered in dried sweat, but that had become normal for him now, ever since he’d started taking his daily potions.

He showered off easily enough, dressed in his scarlet Quidditch robes and dark yellow leggings and he shouldered his Firebolt, snatching up his bone strengthening potion to take down to breakfast with him, along with the standard headache reliever which didn’t get rid of the headache that came as a side effect from the bone strengthening potion, but he had tried not taking the headache reliever once and he’d almost passed out from the pain. So the headache reliever managed the pain enough for him to focus and function more normally and that was what he needed in spades today.

He sat at the Slytherin table, the only speck of gold and red in amongst them, and he ate a small bowl of porridge sweetened with honey and lots of strawberry jam. As soon as he was done, he swallowed both his potions and shook his head, draining a glass of pumpkin juice before he drained the small glass of goat milk before seizing his cup of tea and draining that too. He couldn’t wait until this was all over and he never had to look at another potion ever again.

 

“Are you sure that you’re fit enough to play?” Blaise almost whined.

 

Harry smiled. “I’ve been feeling so much better in recent days.” He said happily.

 

“You truly are looking better too.” Pansy told him. “You have more colour to you and those dreadful black bags have vanished from under your eyes.”

 

“A couple of days of light homework and sleeping nearly fourteen hours a night can do that. I feel better than I have in months.”

 

“Don’t ruin all your progress by breaking your neck.” Draco told him, which was probably as close as he’d ever admit to showing true concern for him.

 

“I’m a pro.” Harry boasted. “I know exactly when I need to pull out of a dive on my Firebolt to avoid the ground.”

 

“When are you going to let me have a go?” Blaise asked him.

 

“On the Firebolt? Whenever you want, Blaise. You only had to ask.” Harry insisted. “Just don’t damage or break it or I will seriously end your life.”

 

“Really? So when we get back from the break, I can have a go on it then?” Blaise asked.

 

Harry nodded. “It’ll be warmer in April too.”

 

“Hopefully you’ll be much better after two weeks off to yourself.” Astoria told him kindly. “A nice break could be just what you need to get on top of things.”

 

Harry nodded. “I can’t wait. I’m going to spend most of it resting, I already know that and that’s without Mother and Father getting involved too. But I just want to spend a lot of it in bed, sleeping.” He insisted.

 

“We won’t recognise you when you come back.” Blaise chuckled.

 

“That can only be a good thing when I’m walking around looking like an inferius.” He smiled.

 

An hour before the match started, Harry stood from the Slytherin table and went to the Gryffindor table to collect his team and his reserves. He got hisses and several spiteful comments from his own housemates as he walked down the table, but he just looked at those doing as such blankly, as if he thought them the worst of scum. He’d learnt that one from Xerxes.

 

“Katie, are you ready?” He asked with a smile.

 

“One minute.” She called back, picking up her glass of juice and draining it. She stood and between them, they wrangled up the team and the reserves.

 

“We’re so early.” Jimmy complained.

 

“I want a bit of a warm up first.” Harry told them as they reached the Entrance Hall. “It’s no secret that I haven’t been feeling well lately, I need to see if I’m fit enough to play.”

 

“You will be, won’t you?” Demelza asked him worriedly.

 

“I hope so, but I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling better lately, but I want Dillan with us, just in case.” Harry nodded to the small, slight boy he’d been personally training when they both had a free moment, the young twelve year old who was his handpicked reserve Seeker.

 

“I…I don’t want to play!” Dillan told him desperately as they made their way outside into the snowy grounds.

 

Harry looked at him. “Then why the hell did you try out?” He asked.

 

“I wanted to be a Chaser!”

 

“You’re better suited to being a Seeker.” Harry told him.

 

“I can’t compare to you!” Dillan cried. “What if I don’t catch the snitch?”

 

“Then you don’t catch it and you move on to the next game.” Harry said. “Not even I’ve caught the snitch a hundred percent of the time!” He told the young Dillan, trying to make him feel better.

 

“Only because the Dementors made you fall!” Demelza insisted, but it negated what Harry had been trying to do.

 

“I told Cedric at the time that he deserved the win, especially when he was pushing for a rematch. The greatest thing this game can teach you is humility and a bit of sportsmanship. It’s not the end of the world if we lose, okay? We will bow out with grace, congratulate Hufflepuff on their spectacular win, because let’s face it, if they beat our star Chasers and phenomenal Keeper then it will be a spectacular win, and we look towards the game in May against Ravenclaw. We can afford one loss this year with the points we’ve accumulated against Slytherin. But if we do lose for whatever reason, we will not be sour faced dick bags about it, alright?”

 

Katie snorted. “That’s an interesting way to phrase it.” She said.

 

Harry grinned. “I mean it. Dillan, if I substitute myself it will be because I am too ill to play, it will be a last resort okay? If I do that and you don’t catch the snitch, I won’t care. I will probably be unconscious somewhere, vomiting into my own hair or something. But I have been training with you myself, I know that I can count on you to do your best. I chose you, I handpicked you out of all the others who tried out to be my replacement if it was needed. You’d do just fine.”

 

The twelve year old nodded stubbornly and set his jaw. Harry smiled and looked at the weather conditions. It was cold still, but unlike the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw match, the sun was out and there wasn’t any clouds or anything, just the snow on the ground.

 

“Perfect conditions for Beaters. Jimmy, Ritchie, I want you both to hit the Bludgers out of the sun, okay? The Hufflepuffs won’t even see them coming. Pauley, depending on which half we’re playing in, you might be at a disadvantage because of these conditions, do what you can and try to anticipate where the Quaffle is coming from so that you don’t damage your eyes staring at the sun. If they have any sort of strategy then they will try to blind you with the sun while trying to score.”

 

Harry led the team and the young reserves out onto the pitch and they all kicked off into the air, flying and getting a feel for the conditions. He saw Pauley go straight for the hoops that had the sun shining on them and he watched as the young boy tried to work out tactics with his own young reservist. They started talking and debating with one another, pointing to the sun and then diving to one hoop or the other.

Harry didn’t feel too bad at the moment and he caught up to Dillan and he started running through tactics with him, telling him how best to strategise in this weather, with the sun.

 

“The sun will catch the snitch more easily so it’ll start glittering and shining like a homing beacon in the dark, so you’ll want to watch your opponent a little more, just in case.” Harry said, using this time as an impromptu lesson. “On such a clear day, this match should be over relatively quickly because of the sun. In conditions like this there’s nowhere for the snitch to hide, so the game is usually won by whichever Seeker catches the snitch first.”

 

“Please let it be you. I’m not ready.” Dillan told him in panic.

 

Harry smiled kindly. “I’m feeling alright for the moment. I’m hoping for a quick win. But you’re more ready than you might think, Dillan.” He insisted. “It’s nerves that are making you afraid, as soon as you start playing, all that melts away. I’m always a little nervous before a match and I’m sure that Katie will tell you the same thing, but these butterflies are normal, no matter how long you’ve been playing or how many games you’ve played, a bit of nerves before a match is completely normal.”

 

When the other students started coming down from the castle Harry called out to his team and got them into their changing rooms under the giant gold lion on the red background. He huddled them around for a pep talk, pulling them all in, even the reserves.

 

“Right you lot, I’m hoping for a nice, clean, quick game.” He said. “Jimmy, Ritchie, take out the Seeker and the other Beaters as a priority.”

 

“The Beaters?” Jimmy asked.

 

Harry nodded seriously. “They can use the sun too, and we won’t see them until it’s too late. They can do a lot of harm in these conditions, so take them out before they do the same to us.”

 

The two boys nodded just as seriously.

 

“Katie, Demelza, Sarah. Girls we need to control the possession of the Quaffle as much as possible to give the Hufflepuffs as little opportunity to score against us. Make your passes clean and precise, watch out for interceptions and be aware of any Bludgers coming out of your blind spot.”

 

Harry looked at the three girls closely, making sure they understood what he was saying, though Katie was old hat at this, she knew exactly what he was asking. He was going to miss her presence when she graduated at the end of the year.

 

“Pauley, if we lose the toss and get the hoops in the sun, don’t panic. The girls will support you and control the possession as much as possible. Don’t damage your eyes by looking at the sun, try and determine where they’re coming from and which hoop they’ll have the best chance of aiming at and block it if you can, but don’t dwell on it if they score. It’s expected in such conditions, especially if the sun is against us.”

 

“And you.” Katie directed at him. “Don’t kill yourself. We have a reserve this year, if you start feeling unwell or drowsy, take yourself off.”

 

“You will take over the captaincy in my place, in the event that I am substituted.” He told her. “But I am hoping for a quick catch.”

 

“If anyone can do it, you can.”

 

Harry chuckled. He turned and got some water from the jug on the table and made sure his team were ready, that their equipment was pristine and their uniform in place. He made sure that his Firebolt was still perfect and then, in no time at all, they were heading back out onto the pitch and facing off against Hufflepuff.

Harry actively looked for Draco, Astoria, Blaise and Theo. They were sat together at the front of the Slytherin bleachers and they hadn’t worn Gryffindor colours, as he had worn the Slytherin colours to their match, but they did have a banner. A banner that was gold on red and simply said ‘Don’t die, Potter.’ It made him laugh in surprise.

His team looked at him and he nodded at the Slytherin bleachers and to the banner right at the front.

 

“They truly have come to like you if they aren’t cheering for your death.” Katie teased.

 

“Tell me about it! It’s amazing to actually have a brother, even if he is a ferret.” Harry grinned.

 

Madam Hooch instructed the two captains to shake hands and Harry stepped forward and did so happily and amicably, wishing the Hufflepuffs luck, setting a good example for his young team. Madam Hooch fully approved if the smile she gave him was any indication. She offered him first pick of the side of the Galleon, because Gryffindor were ahead in points, and after a look to his team, he chose heads. It came up tails…they were playing in the sun.

The whistle blew and they were up in the air and Harry immediately started coasting for the snitch. He had meant it when he’d said that he wanted this to be a nice, quick game, his healing body wouldn’t take a four hour match like the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw game. He’d barely survived that one and he’d been a spectator, an enthusiastic, active spectator, but he’d been in the bleachers nonetheless and not playing. The Bludger that almost took him in the centre chest put a stop to that thought as he rolled under his own broom to avoid it. He took a moment to catch his breath and then turned to glare at the Hufflepuff Beater who was looking at him hopefully, as if fervently hoping that the Bludger sent at him would strike him and he’d fall. The fucking rat bastard.

Harry flew straight over to Jimmy, his nearest Beater.

 

“Take that one out quickly.” He said seriously, nodding to the Beater who’d tried to take him out.

 

“Number four?” Jimmy asked him, keeping his eyes on the numbered Beater.

 

“Number four.” Harry confirmed.

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

Harry went back to coasting for the snitch, now more aware of Bludgers and other players. He filtered out the noise from the crowd and from the game, only the occasional loud shout or snippet of commentary getting through, but Harry had every faith in his team. He had his own job to do and he needed to do it quickly.

He did smile when there was a collective gasp and he turned to see that a Bludger had taken out the Hufflepuff Beater who had fallen to the snow below…Hufflepuff’s number four. He laughed and looked for Jimmy and gave the young boy a thumbs up, getting an exuberant grin back.

Harry slipped up higher and coasted again, hoping for a glimpse of the snitch, filtering in the noise for a mere moment to hear a bit of commentary to make sure that they were in the lead and his star girls were doing what they did best, dominating the Quaffle and the possession of the game. He heard ‘another ten points to Gryffindor, making that one hundred points to twenty’ and he cut out again. The girls were doing brilliant and if Hufflepuff only had twenty points, then Pauley was doing spectacular too, against all the odds and the unrelenting glare of the sun.

The game wore on and Harry kept his eyes on the other Seeker, just in case, but he had no clue where the snitch was hiding, he hadn’t even seen a glimmer of gold that would indicate that the sun had caught it. He did have the thought that perhaps it was down in the trenches that drained the excess water off of the pitch, but he wasn’t going to go down there, just in case it turned up while he was down amongst the wooden beams.

The remaining Beater was hard at work, aiming for Pauley, and Harry wasn’t having any of that. Ritchie had taken out one of the Chasers and was going for the Seeker, Jimmy was also aiming at the Seeker, leaving the Hufflepuff Beater free to aim at their Keeper. Pauley couldn’t watch for the Quaffle and Bludgers too, not with the sun in his eyes.

Harry went to Ritchie first.

 

“Protect Pauley, the Beater is trying to take him out.” Harry said.

 

Ritchie looked to his friend and Harry watched him scowl fiercely. “I’ve got him. Leave it to me.”

 

Ritchie flew off, his bat raised, to protect Pauley at the Gryffindor hoops and Harry caught Jimmy’s eye and nodded to the remaining Beater. Jimmy nodded back and Harry knew then that his meaning had been made plain. Very soon Hufflepuff would be left with no Beaters, which is just what Harry wanted. He could handle their Seeker himself, it was the Beaters that he had been worried about, because of the blinding sun and the lack of cloud cover.

There was another gasp from the crowd several minutes later and Harry turned to see the other Beater, the number five, following the previous Beater down into the snow. He chuckled darkly and then turned back to coasting for the snitch, looking more with his peripheral vision than dead on and finally he caught the sparkle of glittering gold.

He was gone, turning on a hairpin and giving chase to the snitch at a hundred and fifty miles per hour, everyone around him blurring to mere colours with no detail as he flew past them. A blob of yellow bravely tried to get in his way, but Harry dropped under his broom and hung there in an insane move that passed him right under the blocking Hufflepuff and allowed him to roll back up onto his broom properly and carry on hunting the snitch at the Firebolt’s top speed.

He almost outstripped the snitch, turning at the last moment and plucking it straight from the air, holding it up in victory. His vision was blurry because of his fast chase around the pitch and he took several extra deep breaths.

 

“Oi! Stop ignoring me, are you alright?”

 

Harry turned then and he had to laugh as he realised that he was right in front of the Slytherin bleachers, hovering just a few feet above them. He moved closer, right in front of Draco.

 

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “I thought I was going to murder that one Hufflepuff who got in the way, but I managed to avoid them.”

 

“I thought for sure that you were going to collide!” Blaise said. “It was less than a second and you were under the Chaser and back on your broom. How did you even see it, let alone have time to think what to do?!”

 

“It seemed longer than that.” Harry insisted. “It felt like I had loads of time to see the yellow blob, to realise what was happening and then to roll underneath my broom as I passed under their attempt to block me.”

 

“Well it wasn’t loads of time, it was a split second! I almost died, Potter!” Draco told him. “Don’t do that again!”

 

Harry laughed and held out the snitch. “I don’t have to.” He gave them a cheeky wink and he flew off back to the centre of the pitch and he landed in the snow to give Madam Hooch the snitch and he all but fell into the arms of his waiting teammates.

 

“We did it!” Sarah was cheering.

 

“You girls were amazing! Pauley, where are you, you were brilliant too!” Harry insisted as he found the young Keeper and clapped his back. “Jimmy, Ritchie, you guys were so accurate with your shots! That practice definitely paid off, boys.” He praised. “Taking out the opposing Beaters like that, well done!”

 

“You were pretty great too, our star Seeker.” Katie told him with a grin.

 

“Right, we can all congratulate ourselves and say we’re the greatest team ever in a bit.” Harry insisted. “Once we’re warm and dry! I need to get out of these robes and into a warm shower and warm clothes before I keel over.”

 

“Are you feeling okay?”

 

“I was, until that final chase, now I need to sit down for a bit.” He admitted. “My vision is a bit blurry still.”

 

“Right, let’s get into the changing rooms.” Katie said, taking over.

 

Harry preceded the three young boys into the showers and he took just a few minutes to stand under the warm water before hurrying to dry himself off and climb back into his Quidditch robes and casting a warming charm on them, sinking into the wave of immediate heat that the charm gave.

 

“Oh, that’s so much better.” He sighed.

 

One by one he cast the same charm on the three young boys and watched them sink into their own robes as well. He smiled.

 

“Come on.” He chided. “Let’s get the girls and go to our after party.”

 

“Will you get sweets and things again?” Pauley asked.

 

“You bet I will.” Harry said, watching with a smile as the boys whooped and charged off ahead of him.

 

He sighed and lifted his left hand to his mouth and he kissed his ring.

 

“I miss you more and more.” He whispered to it. “I wish you’d been here today to watch me win. I can’t wait, just two more weeks and I’ll be back in your arms. I love you. I’ll be with you again soon.”

 

“Come on, Harry!” Demelza called out from up ahead and Harry looked up and he smiled at the rest of his team.

 

He chuckled and quickened his pace to catch up to them. Just two more weeks and he would be back at home with Rabastan. He would have just two weeks with his Fiancé and he was determined to make the most of it while he could. He would have just two weeks of kissing Rabastan’s lips instead of his engagement ring, he would have just two weeks to sit beside Rabastan and speak to him without waiting several days to hear a reply to his words. He would have just two weeks to comfort and personally support Rabastan until he would have to come back to Hogwarts for another eleven weeks. It seemed so fucking long, eleven weeks…but it would all be worth it when he got two full, uninterrupted months with Rabastan for the summer. Hopefully they would both be a lot better by the time that the end of term came around and the summer holidays started. It was only that thought that was getting him through this continuous hell.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> A/N: A very late chapter, but I’m amazed that I actually got this one done! Just before I go off to work too, so I’m very happy with it. This is a few days later than normal, because it’s a birthday chapter, but I’m just glad I got it out at all!
> 
>  
> 
> A lot of you are asking about Theo and Daphne, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that, but it’s not going to be soon! Theo is a Slytherin for a reason and he’s not going to rush his revenge, he’s going to take his time, so expect him to play along a little with Daphne to lure her further into her sense of unshakable security and then when she least expects it, he’s going to rip her down and keep her down. Her and his Father, the latter of which is why his plan is taking so long, because he needs to find a way to keep himself secure too. So don’t worry, it will come, just a little later in the plot line, like Rhadamanthus and Bellatrix.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I believe that’s it, lovelies, until next week because we do have yet another chapter to be updated, I hope that you’ve enjoyed the story,
> 
>  
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X
> 
>  


	17. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> Just two more weeks and he would be back at home with Rabastan. He would have just two weeks with his Fiancé and he was determined to make the most of it while he could. He would have just two weeks of kissing Rabastan’s lips instead of his engagement ring, he would have just two weeks to sit beside Rabastan and speak to him without waiting several days to hear a reply to his words. He would have just two weeks to comfort and personally support Rabastan until he would have to come back to Hogwarts for another eleven weeks. It seemed so fucking long, eleven weeks…but it would all be worth it when he got two full, uninterrupted months with Rabastan for the summer. Hopefully they would both be a lot better by the time that the end of term came around and the summer holidays started. It was only that thought that was getting him through this continuous hell.

 

Chapter Seventeen - Home

 

On the twenty-second of March Harry had barely been able to sleep from a combination of nervous excitement and the night sweats brought on by his nutrient potion. He had finally given up when he realised that he was just tossing and turning in his bed, getting more frustrated and damp than anything else and not getting any rest at all.

He rolled right out of the bed and took a moment to scrub vigorously at his face with his hands and then he actually squinted at his clock and he groaned, part in frustration and part in disbelief…it was only just five in the morning.

At least he didn’t have to deal with any homework this time around. He had such a light workload at the moment that he had finished all of his set homework before the end of term and he had already handed it in so he didn’t even have to worry about it. He had nothing to do but wait for the train ride home. It was going to be hell, waiting for nine in the morning and then enduring an eleven hour train ride, but he couldn’t wait until he got back home and he could snuggle up in Rabastan’s arms…he’d been dreaming of such for a while now, the closer to the twenty-second it had gotten.

He made sure that he had everything that he wanted to take with him, which he’d already done the night before when he’d been too excited to go to sleep in the first place, before he made himself a cup of tea, grabbed his most recent Rune’s book that Marcus had lobbed at his head and told him to read, before he went into the bathroom to run himself a nice, hot bath. He spent as long as he possibly could in the bath, reading, until the water started getting noticeably cooler. Then he put the book down, out of the way of any errant splashes as it wasn’t his book, and he washed himself off quickly, and thoroughly, and he got out.

He actually debated on what to wear for once, but remembering Astoria’s advice at the Slytherin’s Quidditch after party, he chose a nice, dark green jumper and tight, black wool trousers. He looked at himself in the mirror from every angle, trying to find fault with what he’d chosen. He really needed someone to just tell him what to wear for such occasions, he looked normal enough, though he supposed that the tight trousers did show off his bum a bit more than usual and the dark green jumper was definitely a good call, his eyes looked bigger and more prominent against the green jumper.

He brushed his hair for several minutes, trying, what seemed to be in vain, to flatten what he could, but ultimately he gave it up as an impossible feat before he went to pick up his book bag, which he was currently using as a hold all just to go back home for two weeks. It mostly had his recreational books, and the ones that Marcus had given to him too, so that he could read them on the train and when he got home.

It was almost seven in the morning when he slipped out of his rooms, his book bag over his shoulder. It was still early, but he didn’t care if anyone wanted to give him a detention for being twenty minutes early for breakfast. He was much too excited about seeing Rabastan again and he was driving himself up the wall waiting in his rooms all by himself.

The tables were empty for now, only set with clean plates, glasses and cutlery. Harry sat at the Slytherin table, as had become the norm these days, and as soon as his arse hit the bench, a selection of drinks appeared in front of him, including a jug of juice, a jug of water, a teapot and milk. He smiled at the attention of the house-elves.

 

“Thank you.” He said clearly and loudly, knowing that they’d be able to hear him. “I appreciate this.”

 

He made himself some tea and he got a book out of his bag to read while he waited, occasionally sipping his tea as he read.

At exactly seven in the morning the tables erupted into life, spilling an assortment of breakfast things up to the four house tables.

Harry got himself some porridge, spooned in a large amount of jam, and he set to eating. He also found the goat milk and poured himself a glass. He sipped at it as he ate, disguising the taste of the milk with the overly sugary, sweet porridge.

There were a few people in the hall with him now, at this early time of morning, then the Professors turned up one by one and then, by half past, more people started trickling in and the soft, occasional sounds grew to a small din. Harry was joined at his section of the Slytherin table first by Theo, which was perfect for Harry as he’d been meaning to speak to him for a while.

 

“So, when is your big reveal going to be?” He asked curiously, as he politely marked the page in his book and put it away, giving Theo his full attention.

 

Theo gave him a smirk. “Soon enough.” He said in a very satisfied way.

 

Harry chuckled. “Am I allowed to be in on the big reveal?”

 

“Well, between me and you, Harry, absolutely no one is going to want her after this. No one.” Theo said in a very cruel way. “Not anyone from Britain, not anyone from overseas. She’ll be ruined.”

 

“Good!” Harry said with an answering cruel smile. “Does your Father know yet?”

 

“Absolutely not. I’m trying to take him down too. If he is proven to be an unsatisfactory Head of House, then I can petition to take over. It’s a rarely used law and it’s even rarer that it’s actually enforced, but if I can push the issue, I might just be joining you at those Wizengamot meetings.”

 

Harry laughed. “It’ll do me some good to have some company my own age!” He insisted with a grin.

 

They were cut off of their conversation by the appearance of a bubbly, bright faced Astoria, who was resplendent in a pale blue jumper embroidered with sparkling gems around the neckline that looked like actual aquamarine stones. She had paired the jumper with a knee length, white skirt, thick woollen tights that were also white and she had finished it off with white shoes with delicate blue designs on them that matched the jumper. Her blonde hair was tied back with a blue ribbon.

 

“You look beautiful this morning, Astoria.” Harry greeted, accepting the kiss to the cheek as she settled herself beside him.

 

“I could say the same.” She laughed, looking him over. “That jumper suits you perfectly!”

 

“I definitely like red better, but you were right about green bringing out my eyes, and they are my best facial feature after all.”

 

“Oh they certainly are.” Astoria agreed. “If I had such unique, perfectly green eyes as you I would flaunt them as often as I could! You have the sort of eyes that other people can only dream of having.”

 

Harry laughed. “Well I have my Mum to thank for them. Just as I have my Dad to thank for this hair, though I took his short-sightedness as well.” He added, touching his black framed, rectangular glasses.

 

“Your hair looks neater today, what did you do?” Astoria asked as she sliced a banana onto her toast.

 

“Nothing, I had a bath this morning and I was bored, so I brushed it for a bit longer just to waste some time. It’s probably fluffier than normal as opposed to neat.” He grinned.

 

They took a break from conversation to eat a bit more of their breakfasts, Harry went to pour himself some more tea before noticing the inch or so of milk still in his glass, with a scowl he put the teapot back down and drained the last of his milk first.

 

“You two need to be my witnesses.” He told Theo and Astoria. “I drank my glass of milk for the morning, you both saw me. Draco won’t believe me, he’d make me drink another one!” He insisted.

 

Theo chuckled. “I saw you drink it.” He nodded.

 

“I did too.” Astoria smiled.

 

Harry grinned at them both and he went back to getting himself a second cup of tea, well, his third of the morning actually as he’d had one up in his rooms before he’d come down. He got a small piece of wholemeal toast to nibble on once his porridge was finished and then he took the time to drain his bone strengthening potion and a headache reliever. He shivered and shook his head in a familiar response now to the terrible, bitter taste of them that was impossible to get used to.

He drained his almost full cup of tea and then poured himself a fourth cup. It was as he was drinking this cup, much more leisurely this time, talking to Theo and Astoria, that Blaise and Draco finally joined them, Draco sitting next to Astoria immediately and Blaise sat up next to Theo.

 

“You’re down late, one final romp in the sheets together first?” Harry teased.

 

Astoria went pink and giggled and Theo laughed.

 

“I wish!” Blaise chuckled. “Crabbe was hogging the shower. It took Draco forever to get ready.”

 

“Me? You were the one who changed your shirt four times because you didn’t like the way they were sat on your shoulders!” Draco told him. “There’s nothing wrong with the shirts, Blaise, it’s your shoulders! You’ve bulked up since September and you need to be fitted again!”

 

“Okay, we’ve established that you’re both as fussy as one another and you both take a decade to get ready for anything, stop now, I have a headache.” Harry whined as he massaged either side of his head.

 

“Your potion?” Draco asked.

 

“What else?” He grumped. “Things started off so well this morning too.”

 

“Have you eaten today?”

 

“Yes, Draco.” Harry said. “I’ve had porridge and toast.”

 

He waited for Draco to ask about the milk and he didn’t have to wait very long.

 

“Have you had your glass of milk?”

 

“Yes.” He said in a long suffering way.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I’m pretty sure I remember drinking it.” Harry deadpanned.

 

“He did drink it.” Astoria confirmed with a giggle at their behaviour.

 

“You would have seen me drinking it if you and Blaise hadn’t gone for that extra romp.” He laughed.

 

That set them all off, even Blaise, but Draco sniffed.

 

“We didn’t have an extra romp!” He insisted primly.

 

“Oh, just the usual amount then?” Harry inquired innocently and Astoria, Theo and Blaise laughed uproariously. Draco went pink as he realised that he’d walked right into that set up.

 

“Oh, shut up, Harry.” He complained.

 

Harry chuckled. He dutifully went back to his tea and he counted down the time that he had to wait until they could board the train. The carriages pulled by the thestrals would start coming to the castle at eight in the morning, which was only twenty minutes away. Harry decided to get yet more tea to while away the last several minutes, he reminded himself to go to the bathroom before he left with all the tea that he’d had this morning.

 

“I’m going to go grab a compartment.” He said at five to eight in the morning, unable to wait any longer. “Any preference, Draco, front or back?” He said innocently. Too innocently.

 

“Why do I feel like you’ve set that up as an innuendo?” Draco asked him with his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

 

Harry’s grin widened and he laughed. “I’ll be near the front.” He grinned. “I prefer taking it from behind.”

 

Blaise almost choked and he went red with coughs before he could breathe again and Harry laughed happily, swinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving for the grounds.

He got a carriage to himself that set off at exactly eight in the morning towards Hogsmeade station and he was the first one on the train, incredibly early. His first order of business was to go to the nearest bathroom, he then found a compartment and settled himself next to the window and pulled out the book that he’d been reading in the bath and at breakfast. There weren’t going to be many students going home for the break, but there were enough this year that the train was being used instead of authorised portkeys or the floo. Harry hated that he had to suffer an eleven hour train ride when he could just floo home, but he _was_ getting to go home and see Rabastan, so he wasn’t going to complain overly much about it.

Draco and Astoria joined him fifteen minutes later and so did Blaise. Theo was staying at Hogwarts and so was Daphne, she had a thing going on with a younger Slytherin. Harry hoped that Theo got rid of her soon, he couldn’t stand to keep holding his tongue, but this was Theo’s play to make, and he seemed very content to wait for what he believed was his perfect moment. It was driving Harry mad.

None of them said very much as the train started its journey at nine in the morning and clattered along towards London. Harry immersed himself in his book and tried not to use his wand to check the time every several minutes. He checked the time after he finished every chapter and even that seemed like time wasn’t passing as quickly as he would have liked.

Harry inevitably fell asleep on the train, after he’d taken his calcium potion at noon which made him so drowsy that he just fell asleep where he was sat. He didn’t know at the time, but Draco stood up and carefully slipped the book from his hands and put it to the side before he gently laid him down and swept his own cloak off to cover him with. The three left in the compartment spoke quietly, but mostly they just read books or stared out of the window. Blaise left the compartment for an hour to stretch his legs by walking the length of the train and back, seeing who else was travelling with them and where they were sat.

Draco regretfully woke Harry as they drew closer to London, knowing that he wouldn’t sleep that night if he slept for much longer on the train.

 

“Was ‘appening?” Harry slurred sleepily, rubbing his face before realising that he was covered over in Draco’s cloak, taking up three seats in the compartment. He groaned. “Sorry, I don’t even remember going to sleep.”

 

“It would have been the rocking of the train after you took your potion.” Blaise insisted.

 

“I thought it would be better for you to sleep for a bit.” Draco added. “So I laid you down and covered you over. Do you feel better?”

 

Harry nodded. “I’m still tired and I’m feeling a little weak, but I’m sure with something to eat I’ll be better. How long until we get back now?”

 

“About three hours until we arrive at Kings Cross.” Draco told him. “Just sit quiet for a while. I got you some pumpkin pasties. All those sweets aren’t good for you anyway.”

 

Harry smiled and he took the pasties handed to him and nibbled on them slowly, accepting the glass bottle of pumpkin juice too.

He felt much better after his nap and with something to eat and drink. He turned to face the window and he looked out of the window at the passing landscape, trying to imagine what Rabastan looked like now, if he’d changed or if he’d improved during his absence. He remembered thinking the same during the Christmas holidays too, but when it had come to it, he hadn’t even bothered looking, so he didn’t work himself up over it this time. Everything was going to be just fine, he was going to damn well enjoy his two weeks off while he could, it wasn’t that much time at the end of the day, he needed to rest and recover some of his lost strength and that he got to do it with Rabastan was just an added bonus.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Draco helped him from the train, unnecessarily in Harry’s opinion, to the waiting platinum blonde heads of the elder Malfoys.

Narcissa fussed over him and he wouldn’t admit how much he liked that as he allowed her to cup his face and peer at him.

 

“Let’s get you home, darling.” She said to him gently, fussing over him as if he was already at death’s door. Then again the last time that she had seen him he had felt like he was at death’s door, in that awful week after his initial diagnosis.

 

Lucius and Draco were tall and almost stoic, walking side by side, like two peas in a pod. Harry felt absolutely no shame in curling up in Narcissa’s arms and laying his head on her shoulder. He’d never had such novelties before, no one to hold him like this or to care a damn about him, so he was going to milk it while he could, until it was no longer a novelty to him.

They Apparated back to the manor, Harry holding tight to Narcissa and then groaning at the pain in his knees as he landed flat out on the floor.

 

“Very graceful.” Draco taunted him.

 

“If I could see you, I’d curse you.” Harry groaned as Lucius helped him to his feet, holding him firmly.

 

“Come along, Harry. Did you hit anything important?”

 

“No, I think I missed the pedestal of the priceless amphora.” Harry said, looking quickly to where it was, just a little to the left of where he’d landed.

 

“I was referring to your body.” Lucius sighed unhappily. “Did you hit your head?”

 

Harry blinked. “Oh. No, I don’t think so.” He said as he checked that his glasses were still unbroken after his fall, he never believed that the unbreakable charms they’d been made with would hold up.

 

Lucius shook his head and steered him with a hand on his shoulder towards the front parlour. Harry’s heart started hammering nervously, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he knew what was coming.

Rabastan was actually pacing when they entered the room, his back to them as they came in and Harry smiled wider.

 

“I’m not so frightful that you need to pace.” He joked.

 

Rabastan swung around, his face a picture of worried concern and he hurried to him automatically, his hands coming to hold his shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

 

“Are you okay? When I heard that you had the flu on top of the hypocalcaemia…” Rabastan trailed off.

 

“I’m fine now.” Harry smiled. “There’s no need to worry. I’m surprisingly hard to kill off.”

 

Harry ignored the stiffening and slight shifts of body weight in the room then, as he alluded to Voldemort and the many failed attempts on his life, and he instead took Rabastan’s hand and pulled him to a free settee. Harry sat, pulled at Rabastan until he sat down too and then he turned to cuddle up with him.

 

“I’m sure that’s prohibited behaviour.” Rodolphus grunted.

 

“Shut up, Rodolphus.” Harry said immediately. “I’ve missed this while I’ve been away, I’m just catching up.”

 

Rabastan smiled at him and tucked him in tighter. He certainly had grown in confidence while Harry had been away if he was happily holding him this close, this tightly, around his rib cage. Harry threw one arm around Rabastan’s neck and rested his head on that chest.

Rabastan didn’t seem quite as bony as before either. Harry was very comfortable lying on him and there was more flesh under his body than there had been before. It could only mean that Rabastan’s recovery programme was working and he was so happy and so proud that he pulled back and gave Rabastan a kiss.

 

“I missed you so much.” He said quietly, just for them as they slipped into their own little bubble.

 

“I’ve missed you too. How are you feeling, honestly?”

 

“Honestly?” Harry questioned. “A little weak and tired, but much better now that I’ve knocked the flu on the head.”

 

A careful hand brushed against his cheek and a thumb just touched at the corner of his eye as Rabastan cupped his face gently.

 

“Is it truly gone?” He asked.

 

Harry nodded, smiling. “Completely gone. I never meant to worry you.”

 

“I know, but I do worry for you. I’m constantly worried for you, especially now with your diagnosis.”

 

“I’m taking a lot of rest these days.” Harry explained. “I’ve taken all of the potions that I’ve needed to and I’m keeping up with them.” He said. “I’ll be fine soon, we both will.”

 

Rabastan smiled down at him and squeezed him gently. Harry grinned, because it was an amazing step forward, Rabastan willingly squeezing him, controlling the pressure and duration of the squeeze and doing it purposefully. Harry loved him so much and he turned his head and kissed the lips that he had been dreaming of for weeks now.

Rabastan chuckled quietly and his other arm came around to hold him too. Harry was overjoyed and he couldn’t stop grinning.

 

“Sorry to interrupt your cosy little bubble, but dinner has been served.” Lucius cut in.

 

Harry frowned and sighed unhappily. He stood up and held his hands out to Rabastan, who chuckled and took them, allowing Harry to pull him to his feet. He happily threw an arm around Harry’s slim shoulders and held him to his body confidently.

 

“I’ve been concentrating on controlling my grip.” Rabastan told him, as if somehow Harry had missed that he’d done so, as they made it to the dining room. “Dolphus and I have been practising with caus…with raw eggs.”

 

“You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.” Harry told him with a smile as Rabastan settled him on his chair and then sat next to him.

 

Rabastan puffed up at Harry’s praise and Harry hid his smile as he picked up his knife and fork and started to eat his braised beef and steamed vegetables.

 

“It means a lot to me to hear you say as such.” Rabastan told him, bending to whisper directly in his ear.

 

Harry put down his knife and gave Rabastan’s cheek a soft touch, paired with a wide smile and some serious eye contact. “I’m always going to be beside you, Rabastan. I’m always going to support you. Of course I’m proud of you, your achievements are also my own and I share in them. I love you and I’m so proud of you and everything that you’ve overcome in these last several months. You’ve done so very well, keeping to your diet and exercises, taking all of your potions and the change in you is miraculous. You’ve become happier, more confident and I love seeing your confidence grow as you get healthier, knowing that you can do whatever you put your mind to, given the right support.”

 

“That is all thanks to you.” Rabastan told him. “Your support and love has helped me so much, I doubt that I could ever express exactly how much as I can’t even begin to count in measurement exactly what you’ve done to and for me. How you’ve pulled me out of my shell, how you’ve raised me up and kept me upright with your support and understanding. The way that you’ve helped me to focus on things that I thought were beyond me after fifteen years in Azkaban, such as reading and writing, just by giving me a new perspective in which to look at it. No one else thought to do as such for me, only you. I love you.”

 

Harry smiled, it was only one of a small handful of times that Rabastan had ever voiced those words ‘I love you’ before. The first time had been just after the bust up at the Malfoy Ball, when Draco had caught him comforting Theo and Rodolphus had overheard the wrong thing and had jumped to conclusions. Harry always made sure not to draw too much attention to such heartfelt words, though he was hearing those words more and more often now and he adored it. He gave Rabastan a look of utter devotion and love and bent forward to kiss him, chastely, on the lips before turning back to his late dinner, though he didn’t pick up his knife again, instead he kept his spare hand on Rabastan’s knee, touching lightly and caressing with his thumb.

 

“Do you boys have homework to do?” Lucius asked him and Draco, cutting through Harry’s self-made bubble.

 

Harry blinked and turned around to look at Lucius…he had actually forgotten that he and Rabastan weren’t alone together.

The startled look on his face as he turned and saw other people at the table with them made Xerxes laugh and Lucius chuckle.

 

“I asked if you had homework to do, Harry.” Lucius prompted.

 

“I do.” Draco complained. “The Professors gave us so much homework that I’m not going to have a single free moment!”

 

“I’m on such a light workload that I finished all of my set homework and handed it in before I came home.” Harry said. “I have a few books to read off of Marcus, but we’re actually not going to stop our lessons, he’ll be coming here, if you are agreeable, to carry on our tutoring sessions while I have more time to dedicate to what he is teaching me.”

 

“That is a very mature decision to make.” Narcissa said approvingly. “I am also very happy to hear that you’ve agreed to cut down on your work load in order to give yourself more time to rest and heal.”

 

Harry nodded. “I’ve had more energy and I’ve felt better since I cut down on my work load.” He said happily. “I’m starting to feel more like myself again.”

 

“That is very good news.” Lucius insisted happily.

 

Harry nodded his agreement. “Yes, I was thinking, if I carry on like this, you know getting better and feeling better, then maybe I could pick up a bit more homework when I go back for the new term.”

 

Several people groaned around the table.

 

“What?” He asked confusedly.

 

“We have been trying, fruitlessly it seems, to get you to understand how important your health is.” Lucius told him. “You feel marginally better and immediately you speak of running yourself back into the ground.”

 

“Oh, no, I never meant it like that. I meant taking on just slightly more at a time, starting with the subjects that I find more difficult.”

 

“Why?” Draco demanded as if he were stupid.

 

“Because the more I work on it and the more I do for those subjects, the more I’ll understand and they won’t be so difficult anymore.” Harry explained. “I’ll get better at them and hold more understanding and I’ll actually learn something.”

 

“Do not push yourself.” Lucius warned him. “You have all the time you need to catch up during the summer, once you’ve been declared healthy.”

 

Harry sighed. “I just want to do well.”

 

“You _are_ doing well.” Lucius told him patiently. “You are doing so much better than anyone ever expected of you. You have time to catch back up with your school work, not just in the last term, but next year too, just focus completely on your health for now, Harry. It is the most important thing here.”

 

“Lucius is right.” Rabastan told him, giving him a soft smile and a gentle touch. “When I heard that you were sickly and going for that full check up at the hospital I was worried for you, then you came back and it was much worse than we could have ever thought of, then you got the flu on top of that too, you just…you just need to calm down, Harry. You need more rest, more help and support. Just let yourself heal first.”

 

Harry sighed, but he smiled. “Okay. I’ll be a little more relaxed, but there are certain subjects that I just can’t afford to fall behind in, if I fell behind in Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Potions or Transfiguration now, then I’d never be able to pick back up the momentum that I had. I need to stay ahead of those four subjects if I have any chance of passing my NEWT exams next year. Charms isn’t too difficult and neither is Herbology. I’m going to walk Defence, as always, and History of Magic has always been a complete joke, but those four are my top problem subjects and I can’t afford to let them slide away from me.”

 

“What you cannot afford to do is to fall sick again.” Narcissa told him firmly. “You will do so if you do not give yourself the time that you need to rest and to heal. You had a very serious diagnosis just two months ago, darling. Such a thing was very shocking for all of us, but it must have been more so for you. It is not an easy thing to hear, that such a serious condition has been lingering unnoticed, that it could have been fatal. There is no need to hide behind your school work or to hide your reaction or your emotions to this news, it is very upsetting and you have every right to feel that way.”

 

Harry’s heart missed a beat as Narcissa hit the proverbial nail on the head. He averted his gaze and sighed.

 

“I just want to forget about it.” He admitted softly. “I don’t want to think about it.”

 

“You need to, sweetheart.” She told him. “I know it’s difficult, it must be hurting you to think of such things, but you can’t just ignore it. It won’t go away just because you’re not thinking about it. You’ll do yourself more damage by not looking after yourself.”

 

“I am taking the potions.” He insisted. “I suppose it’s just difficult to admit that it’s affecting every part of my life, that it might have ended up taking my life if I’d let it or never found out.”

 

“You do not need to dwell on such thoughts.” Lucius told him. “The illness, and the damage that it had done, _was_ found, Harry. It is being rectified and you are healing. That is all you need to think about now.”

 

Harry nodded with a small smile. “It is difficult to think and speak of, but I am getting better the more used to it I get. Knowing that it could all be healed in a few more months is all that is keeping me from having a mini meltdown.” He admitted.

 

“You would be entitled to have a ‘mini meltdown’ as you have phrased it.” Lucius told him gently. “Do not underestimate how very serious this condition is. It is very severe and rather shocking, it would be understandable that you might be struggling a little with the knowledge of it or with the gruelling potions regime that you need to stick to in order to heal yourself. Anyone would be finding things a little difficult, Harry, that is why I want you to slow down and to take things a little easier.”

 

Harry nodded glumly.

 

“You don’t need to stress about it for the next few weeks.” Draco told him, trying to cheer him up. “You have no homework, nothing to really do except put up with Marcus and his lessons, just relax and recover a little bit while you can.”

 

Harry nodded then and he shifted just slightly closer to Rabastan for comfort. Rabastan who immediately put down his knife and fork and turned to him, laying one hand over his shoulders and raising his other hand to touch his face.

 

“You’re going to be just fine.” He said calmly, that deep, resonating voice soothing him. “We’re all going to look after you.”

 

Harry smiled and he shifted his chair right up flush to Rabastan’s and he snuggled in as close as he could.

 

“Harry, finish your meal please, you need to eat.” Narcissa told him.

 

Harry nodded, but instead of moving back, he pulled his plate closer and he ate right next to Rabastan, touching him under the table as he brushed his shoulder against Rabastan’s side and knocked their knees together.

Rabastan chuckled, but he didn’t move away or discourage him from what he was doing for which Harry was very grateful as he needed a small bit of comfort for himself. It was still difficult for him to come to terms with all that had happened and though he’d always known that the Dursleys hadn’t liked him and hadn’t treated him well in any capacity of a decent human being, he had never once thought of the possibility that they might have actually killed him. It might have been a death through a disease that they probably didn’t know that he had either, but it didn’t matter to him, he had not believed that the abuse he had been put through could have ever led to his death in any way. It was a very rude awakening that he found himself sat here, dwelling on the fact that they could have been implicit in his own premature death. He found the thought cold and disquieting.

After dinner he was back on one of the settees in the front parlour with Rabastan, his body practically melded to the other man as he laid his head over the strong heartbeat. It reminded him that though Rabastan might be physically weak because of his incarceration, he was still alive. It had helped him in recent months to lay his hand over Rabastan’s chest and to just feel his heart beating strong and surely, so at odds with his appearance and physical limitations. It had always been the same with his voice too…that voice that had always been so deep and so steady.

 

“Are you asleep?” Rabastan whispered so quietly that Harry wondered if he had actually heard it at all and wasn’t just imagining it.

 

He chuckled. “No. I’m just enjoying being able to touch you again.”

 

“I won’t dissuade you then.”

 

Harry could almost hear the smile to go with those words and he rolled his head to look up at his Fiancé. The soft look that he was getting didn’t fit into the picture of a murdering monster that the Daily Prophet had printed in January of last year, when Rabastan had first been liberated.

He remembered reading the article that had been front page news and he remembered the things that had been said about Rabastan, what he’d done to Frank and Alice Longbottom, Neville’s parents. He remembered what words had been used to describe him, cold and cruel and merciless. It struck very close to what the Prophet had been calling him ever since the trial and sentencing of Dennis Jute. How he was being called exactly the same, not for torturing two people into insanity, but merely for sentencing a man to prison for the vile attack he’d carried out in Muggle Kent on defenceless people who had been hurt in the attack and now suffered with a decreased quality of life as a result.

His point was that the Prophet had been saying how much of a monster that Rabastan was, how dangerous and deranged, but as he looked up at that soft look, the adoring smile and those dark blue eyes…it reminded him that not everything was always so black and white, that people were not black and white. Rabastan might have been able to torture two people, but hadn’t he himself gone to cast the Cruciatus curse, one of the Unforgivables and incidentally the same spell used to torture the Longbottoms, on Bellatrix Lestrange? So truly, how was he any better than Rabastan or Rodolphus? How could he claim to be so white and pure and light when, given the right circumstance, he had gone to do exactly the same as the both of them. He had been more than willing to torture and kill Bellatrix for Sirius’ death, it was just that Rabastan and Rodolphus felt exactly the same way about Voldemort and when faced with losing someone that they considered important to them, they had gone after those who they deemed necessary and he had done exactly the same when he had lost Sirius.

 

“You’re thinking incredibly hard, you’re frowning.” Rabastan told him with his own frown. “Are you okay?”

 

Harry, his thoughts broken, looked up at those blue eyes that he loved so much and he smiled.

 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Sometimes I just lose myself in overthinking everything when really the answer is rather quite simple.”

 

“Oh?” Rabastan replied questioningly. “And what simple answer have you come to?” He asked.

 

“That I love you.” Harry said with a wider smile. “Two sides of a coin are still just the one coin. It doesn’t matter what method we use to get somewhere, if the end result is exactly the same.”

 

He slipped back into his thoughts for a moment as he said those words out loud…truly he and Rabastan were two sides of a coin, but the same coin nonetheless. Perhaps the lines between them were blurring a little as they melded closer together, but they were still the same just in different ways. After all, he _had_ blown off Rowle’s leg and then left him to bleed to death on the bathroom floor. True the threat of him being eaten alive had shocked and terrified him, but he hadn’t done anything to stop anyone from going to do it either, truly what did that make him if not the monster that the Prophet had been claiming that Rabastan was.

He smiled and looked back up at Rabastan, lifting a hand to touch that rough skinned, chiselled jaw and he let his thumb caress patterns onto the strong chin.

 

“You mean the world to me.” He said gently. “I’d do anything for you.”

 

Rabastan looked rather confused, as this had seemingly come out of the blue to him, who was not privy to Harry’s thoughts and didn’t know exactly how deeply Harry was thinking, or about what.

 

“I feel the same way about you.” Rabastan replied. “I feel like I’m missing several links and key points here, but as you said, if the end result is exactly the same…”

 

Harry chuckled then and he grinned happily. “If the end result is the same.” He echoed, feeling much better as he lifted himself up to kiss Rabastan as deeply as he dared with several family members in the room with them.

Rabastan grinned so happily at him then and his arms wrapped around him more securely, boxing Harry in on all sides as Harry buried his face into Rabastan’s robes and held him back tightly, smiling at the flesh he could feel under his hands. Rabastan was not quite so bony anymore and he was filling out nicely. Very soon this ‘recovery’ stage of their lives would be behind the both of them and their future looked bright and happy. It would start as soon as he was out of Hogwarts, once he’d graduated, and he could spend as much time with Rabastan as he possibly could then. They would be married in that July, and then they could truly start their lives in earnest, together, as they both desired.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

That very next afternoon Harry’s happiness of the night before had all but evaporated and their tempers were sorely tested when Rabastan insisted on not leaving him and Marcus alone to study.

They were using the first floor drawing room and though they had a coffee table separating them as per usual, Rabastan still didn’t want to leave them to it.

Marcus had tried to ignore Rabastan, to pretend that he wasn’t there and carry on as usual, but with every quip and barb that Marcus made towards Harry, Rabastan growled and threatened to end Marcus’ miserable life.

 

“Rabastan.” Harry sighed tiredly. “This is going to take several hours if you don’t stop.” He tried. “Just go find Rodolphus and leave us be and I will find you when we’re done.”

 

“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Rabastan said tightly.

 

“We’re always alone at Hogwarts, locked away in Harry’s private rooms. You’re never there then, are you?” Marcus taunted.

 

Harry watched Rabastan’s fists clench tight, his arms shaking with the strain.

 

“Just stop.” Harry tried, sighing in exhaustion. “I’ve only recently taken a calcium potion and I just do not have the energy for this. I need these tutoring sessions, Rabastan or I’m going to fail miserably when my exams come around. I can’t do several things at once and I just really need to focus on this for now. Please, just let me sort this.”

 

“I’m not leaving.”

 

“Then just shut up and stop interrupting.” Marcus demanded. “Harry, here.”

 

Harry took the handmade worksheets that Marcus handed to him and he set them down. He picked up his quill and set to work on translating or code breaking the Runes. The code breakers were the worst, as he had to move the sequence of Runes that Marcus had given him into a combination that wouldn’t blow him into smithereens if ever he were to actually carve them. There were a handful of combinations that created different results, but Marcus was looking for just the one, specific combination and next to the sequence of Runes was just one word…such a silence, lock, warm etc. and he had to use the Runes given to him to put them into a sequence that would give him the result that Marcus was looking for…it was insanely difficult and he needed all of his concentration just to figure it out…with two stony silent men glaring daggers hatefully at one another over his head, it was nearly impossible as the tension in the room was so thick that Harry felt that he could choke on it. 

His head throbbed painfully and he had to close his eyes as he went so dizzy that he would have started swaying where he sat.

He heard Rabastan growl and heard a barely there chuckle from Marcus and he was so done.

 

“If you can’t even stop so I can concentrate on my work then there is just no point in me doing this!” He snapped. “I can’t concentrate while under the effects of these potions at the best of times without these fucking distractions too!” He screamed. “You obviously can’t stay in the same room with one another, so just leave me alone!”

 

Harry slumped forward and bumped his head on the table, just resting as his world tilted with his anger.

Rabastan was just there then, holding his shoulders and checking to make sure that he wasn’t unconscious.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked and his voice was…odd. He was so worried that his voice was strained and it could be heard as he spoke.

 

“I hate these potions so much.” Harry said miserably.

 

“This is why I didn’t want to leave you.” Rabastan said tightly.

 

“You’re the one who caused it.” Marcus said angrily. “He has never reacted like this before when we’re at Hogwarts!”

 

“Be very careful what you say to me you…”

 

“Just stop!” Harry interjected once more. “Just stop, I can’t take…I can’t do this, okay?! I need you to both _stop_.”

 

He stood up and he left, locking his knees and straightening his back. He went to find Lucius and he almost humiliated himself by losing his feet as he stumbling into the room where he was sat with Rodolphus and Xerxes. They had been mid conversation when he all but fell through the door.

 

“Harry?!” Lucius said, rather alarmed. “Are you alright, what has happened? Where is Rabastan?”

 

“They’re being stupid cavemen!” He complained as he allowed Lucius to help him wobble to a seat and he held a hand to his spinning head. “I’ve just taken the calcium potion not an hour ago and I can barely concentrate as it is, I don’t have the energy or the mental capacity to deal with it. If they want to fight with each other then fine, good luck to them both, but I can’t be near them.”

 

“Where is Rabastan now?” Rodolphus asked him.

 

“Still with Marcus…they’re probably beating each other with clubs and grunting over who is better.”

 

Harry’s bottom lip trembled and he was just so tired and so fed up that he couldn’t prevent himself from bursting into noisy, messy tears. He did hide his face in his hands though.

 

“Harry? What is the matter?” Lucius asked as he stood and held him close, pressing Harry’s head into his chest and smoothing his hair gently.

 

“I just can’t take it anymore!” He cried. “I can’t deal with the potions and their after effects, I can’t keep doing it and staying strong! I need all my concentration just to focus on anything and they’re just there, sniping and bitching at one another as I’m trying to do the work given to me and I can’t have that when I’m on the potions. It makes me dizzy and drowsy on its own, without anyone fighting over my head and distracting me.” He hiccupped and sniffled, trying to regain control of himself and failing. “I’m not doing anything wrong! I just want to do the Runes work, but it’s difficult enough with the potions and I need the support of other people too. I can’t do it if I have them fighting over my head. It’s hard enough and I just can’t do it.”

 

He turned in Lucius’ arms and he held on and just let himself cry. Rodolphus stood up and the furious look on his face would have been frightening if he didn’t give him a gentle, soft touch as he scratched his nails over Harry’s scalp for a moment before he stormed off out of the room.

Harry cried himself out for several more minutes before calming down and just taking some comfort for himself as he stayed in Lucius’ arms and started breathing deeply and calmly, regaining himself and his composure.

 

“Do you feel better?” Lucius asked him.

 

Harry nodded mutely, still not letting go.

 

“You must have a headache now, do you want a headache reliever and a cup of tea?”

 

Harry nodded again and pulled back slowly, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his jumper, getting rid of his tears. His face was itchy now though, because of his crying fit.

 

“Pimsey.” Lucius called out, waiting only a moment before the house-elf came into the room.

 

“Master called for Pimsey.”

 

“Tea and an adolescent headache reliever.” Lucius said as he focused on Harry and used a handkerchief to mop up what parts of his face that Harry had missed with his sleeve.

 

The house-elf came back with a serving tray, with three cups, milk, sugar and a teapot, complete with tea cosy, and one vial of potion.

Lucius took the vial from the tray and he handed it to Harry.

 

“Yet another potion to swallow.” He grunted as he unstoppered it. “Is it okay to take it considering I had one this morning?”

 

“It is fine to take them six hours apart.” Lucius told him. “As long as you don’t make a habit of it, there shouldn’t be any lasting effects.”

 

Harry knocked the potion back as Lucius made him a cup of tea just how he liked it. As soon as he swallowed the potion down, he took the tea and sipped at it, holding it in his mouth to help take away the bitter taste.

It took just minutes for the potion to work and he could feel the headache ebb away under the effects of the potent potion as surely as the tea washed away the lingering taste. His life was all about swallowing potions these days. He sighed heavily and allowed himself a small amount of comfort as he turned back to cuddle with Lucius in place of Rabastan, who had been one of the causes of his little meltdown to begin with.

 

“Do you feel better?” Xerxes asked him, looking at him seriously, with a hint of concern.

 

Harry nodded. “Much better, but I’m very tired now. The crying wore me out.” He said, disgusted with himself.

 

“I would imagine that that had been building for a while, am I correct?” Lucius asked him.

 

Harry nodded miserably. “I think so. I’ve been feeling the need to just let go and cry for a while but I keep squashing it down, usually with anger. Anger comes to me easily.”

 

“Truly? We hadn’t noticed.” Xerxes said dryly.

 

That made Harry crack a smile and he chuckled a bit wetly.

 

“Though it nice to see you displaying a different emotion other than anger for a change.” Xerxes told him. “Even if seeing your tears was truly heart wrenching, I’m sure that is why ‘Dolphus booked it out of here so quickly. He never was good with such displays, he’s likely gone to knock Marcus and Basti’s heads together.”

 

“He won’t hurt either of them will he?” Harry asked, holding his cup between both hands and occasionally sipping at it.

 

“Oh, most certainly.” Xerxes nodded and it took Harry a moment to realise that Xerxes hadn’t given a general disagreement as most people would have, but had actually confirmed his words.

 

“I…but he won’t _hurt_ , hurt them?” Harry said worriedly, lowering his cup and looking at the door as if he could see through it to the drawing room just down the hallway.

 

“He won’t kill them, but he has grown fond of you, in his own way. Seeing you in tears would not have sat right with him and in his mind, he has gone to sort the problem at the source in the only way that he knows how…with violence.”

 

Harry was saved from answering by a knock on the door before Marcus walked in.

 

“Are you well enough to carry on our lesson?” He asked, showing no sign that he’d been butting heads with Rabastan or had been confronted by Rodolphus. He wasn’t physically harmed in any way that could be seen and he didn’t seem mentally injured either. Harry relaxed himself a bit.

 

“Yes, I feel better now.”

 

“Good, come here and finish these worksheets off, you’ve made a good start.”

 

Harry was almost relieved that Marcus was his usual, caustic self and he slipped to the floor with his half full cup of tea and he pulled the worksheet back towards himself.

Lucius and Xerxes were near silent as they spoke to one another, Lucius having stood up and moved closer to the other man to give the two of them a chance to talk quietly while leaving Harry and Marcus to work in peace.

 

“No! What are you doing?” Marcus told him sharply. “Do you want to blow off your own arm?! Remember back to our first couple of lessons, Harry, you _never_ put those two Runes next to each other. You know this! I drilled it into your head over and over, an emotional breakdown does not excuse you from stupid mistakes.”

 

Harry frowned and rubbed his head. “I knew there was something important about those two Runes. I couldn’t remember if it was the correct answer or one of the explosive combinations.”

 

“Always assume that it is the latter!” Marcus told him sternly. “Then you check for yourself to make sure. Never put any combination together if you aren’t sure of the result and even if you are sure, you check before carving them or you’ll end up dead or missing limbs.”

 

Harry nodded. He knew that, he should have known. He squeezed his hand into a fist and he rubbed the side of it over his forehead. He was frustrated with himself more than anything.

He drew a thin, clear line through the Runes that he’d drawn and he started again, staying away from the dangerous combination. He did notice that Marcus was behaving himself a little more under the watchful gaze of Lord Malfoy and Lord Lestrange, Harry’s adoptive family and his soon to be in-laws. He was still just as abrasive and firm on him as always, but Harry did notice that the foul language had dropped off and so too had the insults to his intelligence. Harry found himself missing them in a way, because they had become familiar to him, because he had come to associate them with Marcus and his Runes lessons. It was odd that they were absent, but in the peace and quiet, Harry was able to concentrate and get through his worksheets at a nice, steady pace. As he finished one of the sheets, he would put it down and Marcus would pick it up and start marking it as if it were an actual exam and then, once all of the sheets were completed, to wind down the lesson, Marcus would talk him through his marks and why he got less on some questions than expected or what he was doing right.

 

“We have a little more time than usual to dedicate to your lessons if you wanted, now that you’re out of school for a fortnight. You said that you had no homework?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No. I’m on a very light workload.”

 

Marcus nodded. “I will see you early evening in three days then, the first thing I will be doing will be quizzing you on the dangerous pair combinations that we’ve already covered. I want them all listed and exactly why they can’t ever be paired together, understood?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yes. I do know them, I swear. It was just a stupid mistake caused by distraction.”

 

“Distractions while working with Runes often end in death, Harry.” Marcus told him seriously.

 

Harry nodded. “I know, I remember. I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not ready to start messing with actual Runes just yet.”

 

“Make sure that you don’t mess with them.” Marcus told him.

 

“I won’t.” Harry assured him seriously. “You’ve taught me well the dangers of them, I’m not ready.”

 

Marcus nodded his head and then collected up all the paperwork, leaving his worksheets to put in his folder with the rest so that he could use them as revision or as notes for his actual lessons at Hogwarts.

 

“I will see you in three days then.”

 

Harry nodded and stood up, holding out his hand politely. They shook hands like adults and Harry smiled.

 

“Thank you.” He said gratefully.

 

“Any time, just make sure you keep to your theory practice.”

 

“I will.” Harry nodded.

 

Marcus left quickly after a polite nod of his own to both Lucius and Xerxes and then he was gone and Harry was able to sit back on the settee and just blow out a big breath and relax.

 

“That certainly was eye opening.” Xerxes said. “To see how passionate young Flint is over such things and how quickly you can learn under his tutelage. You’d never think to see you now that you’d only been studying Runes for just six months. It’s outstanding.”

 

“Marcus truly is a genius with Runes.” Harry smiled tiredly. “It’s why it has to be him and no one else who tutors me. He has an understanding of them that many just don’t seem to be able to comprehend. I don’t think even Professor Babbling can compare to Marcus. He has caught me up with what I need to know and given me a good base understanding of several advanced branches in just a few months with just one lesson a week for two or three hours per lesson. No one else could have done it. No one.”

 

“After what I’ve just witnessed I am inclined to agree with you.” Lucius nodded. “It pleases me to see you doing so well with such a new subject.”

 

Harry smiled tiredly and he raised his hand back to his head and rubbed gently.

 

“You still have that headache?” Lucius asked concernedly as he immediately picked up on his movements.

 

“Hmm? Oh, no. I’m just thinking. I’m tired more than anything now. I usually start slowing down and getting a little drowsy about now, it’s normal. Well, it’s not, but it is for me at the moment.” He amended. “The calcium potion always affects me like this.”

 

“Take some quiet time to just relax and unwind from your tutoring lesson and see how you feel in a little while.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry nodded and he summoned the book that he was almost finished with from the coffee table, too lazy and too comfortable to sit forward and pick it up. Both men chuckled as Harry did this, but he paid it no mind, opening the book to his bookmark and finding the paragraph that he had left off on, picking it back up and carrying on reading.

He could easily block out the soft, quiet voices of Lucius and Xerxes as they spoke, occasionally a louder sentence or mutual laughter would interrupt his quiet bubble, but he didn’t let that bother him as he curled up on the settee and took a bit of time for himself…that had been getting rarer lately too, just taking a bit of time for himself, everything was always about his health or his recovery or the mountain of homework that he had to do, even the joy of having a nice soak in the bath had been taken away with the daily necessity for a bath that the nutrient potions caused because of the terrible night sweats. The summer couldn’t come soon enough in his opinion.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Rabastan had apologised to him for his behaviour, but he was still rather quiet…he became downright sullen when Harry answered his question of when Marcus was coming next with a curt, three days.

Rodolphus cleared his throat noisily and Harry saw the evil glare that he sent his younger brother, who sneered and turned away, obviously ignoring whatever warning his brother was giving to him.

Harry did not have the energy to spare for this, nor the concentration, so he ignored Rabastan and struck up a light conversation with Draco instead. After they’d eaten dinner, Harry held Draco’s wrist and pulled him to the sitting room in his bedroom.

 

“What’s going on? You were so excited to spend all your time with Rabastan.” Draco asked once they were settled. “I didn’t think I’d get a look in of your time while we were home.”

 

Harry sighed and shook his head. “He doesn’t want me to have tutoring with Marcus.”

 

“I thought you got over all of that just after Christmas.” Draco said.

 

“I thought that we had, but he refused to leave us alone to work and he and Marcus started bitching and fighting over my head. I couldn’t concentrate because of the calcium potion and there was so much going on that I got dizzy. This can’t keep happening, Draco. I can’t go through life afraid to talk to anyone or go near anyone for fear that he’s going to get angry or leave me. It’s not right. He needs to be able to trust me as I trust him. He’ll insist that it’s the others that he doesn’t trust, but I’m not so sure that it is anymore. I’ve proven over and over that I can look after myself if need be, no one is going to get to hurt me, so why else would he behave like this unless it’s me that he doesn’t trust? I’m just so sick of it, how many more times do I need to reassure him that I love him and I’m not going to do anything with anyone else?”

 

Harry rubbed his hands over his face and he sighed heavily.

 

“I’ve had enough, Draco. I’m not well as it is, I can’t handle this stress on top of everything else. I need him to just stop doing this to me, to us!” Harry sighed. “I love him, is that never going to be enough?”

 

“I don’t know, Harry. I’ll find out for you.”

 

Harry sighed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, it has to be something that we do ourselves, I’m just not in the mood today after everything. I’m going to rest a bit more and then get to bed nice and early so that I can try to recover from this afternoon.”

 

“Did it make you sick?”

 

“No, it nearly did. I was so dizzy that I was stumbling around all over the place, I am surprised that I wasn’t actually sick now, thinking back to it. That would have completely ruined everything.”

 

“Do you want anything now?” Draco asked worriedly.

 

Harry shook his head. “No. It’s early still, but I think reading out here for a bit and then going to bed will be for the best.”

 

“You have your nutrient potion here with you?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yes, I’m all set.”

 

Draco stood and touched Harry’s hand. “I’ll sort this…if Xerxes and Rodolphus haven’t done so already.”

 

Harry smiled. “Rodolphus has been rather… _vocal_ , in his thoughts today.”  

 

“He likes you.” Draco told him simply. “You’ve obviously won him around and he now believes that you are what’s best for his brother, so he’s not going to stand by and watch his idiot of a brother throw away the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.”

 

Harry blushed at that, immediately, before he could even think to control his reaction. He moaned in embarrassment and Draco laughed.

 

“You _are_ the greatest thing to have ever happened to him, and if he could pull his head from his arse for a single moment then he’d be able to see it too, like the rest of us can.”

 

“I’m just…I’m sick to the back teeth of all of this, Draco. I think we get over it and it’s put behind us and then I _dare_ to go near another man for whatever reason and it all blows up in my face again. It can’t keep happening and I just can’t keep dealing with it. It’s just not fair.”

 

“Don’t fret over it, Harry. Let me sort this, with Rodolphus’ help, and we’ll put him straight again. You just focus on yourself for a little while, you need to heal.”

 

Harry nodded and he curled up on the settee, tucking his feet up under his bum. Draco stood and patted his shoulder and he left the room.

The blond was furious that Rabastan had upset Harry yet again and he wasn’t going to stand for it any more. Either Rabastan woke up and saw Harry for the wonderful young man that he was and treated him with the respect and love that he deserved or Draco would throttle him and then focus on finding someone more fitting, more worthy for his younger brother.

He found Rodolphus first on his hunt and he stopped, hoping to get the older man on Harry’s side and to sort his brother out once and for all.

 

“Where is your brother?”

 

“I’ve already told him he’s being stupid.” Rodolphus said, looking up from what he was doing to look at him. “He already knows that he’s done wrong and he’ll make it up to Harry in the morning.”

 

“He can’t keep doing this, Rodolphus, it’s killing Harry inside. He’s going to walk if this carries on.”

 

“How serious is he about that?”

 

“He doesn’t want to. Merlin knows that he doesn’t, but he will if this carries on. He’s no doormat to be walked on and he’s stubborn and determined enough to do it, even if it hurts initially. He’s not going to stand to be treated this way, Rodolphus. If Rabastan wants him, then he has to stop this behaviour, Harry is doing nothing wrong and treating him like he is, it is going to drive him away. We all believed that this issue of Rabastan’s was resolved, Harry believed that he’d sorted this out already and to have this blow up in his face yet again. He’s sick and tired of it and if it carries on, he’ll call off the wedding.”

 

“That would destroy Rabastan.” Rodolphus sighed.

 

“He’s doing it to himself.” Draco said, not in the least bit sympathetic having come from his talk with Harry. “Harry adores him, you’d have to be blind not to see it. You know, he spends half his time at Hogwarts talking about Rabastan and the other half wishing that he was with him and he has actually started kissing his engagement ring like a fool! He loves Rabastan so much and having that constantly thrown back in his face is destroying _him_. It can’t carry on, Rodolphus. I know you can see it too.”

 

Rodolphus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He eventually nodded. “I see it, of course. I’d see that even if I was blind. The way they speak to one another and how they ignore everyone else around them is a huge indicator to their inherent chemistry. It would be devastating if they broke up, because they do love one another. Rabastan is just so insecure and Flint did kiss Harry before, while Rabastan was at a low point and thinking that their betrothal contract was going to be revoked.”

 

“It was on the cheek and it was done to spur Rabastan into action, of which it did.” Draco said firmly, not allowing that to be used as an excuse. “Marcus now has his own betrothal and Harry is still just as in love with Rabastan as he always has been. He has done nothing wrong, Rodolphus and Rabastan cannot hide behind his insecurities and lash out at him just because he’s feeling threatened by others. It is unacceptable behaviour and Harry doesn’t deserve to be treated in such a way. Sort it out or the next time will be once too many and Harry will break off their engagement. He’s already at his limit because he’s sick and stressed, this is not helping him!”

 

Rodolphus looked up, a steely glint in his dark eyes. “Leave it with me. I can’t say that this isn’t going to happen again, with others, but I will make Rabastan see that Marcus isn’t a threat.”

 

“Make sure that you do. Harry is upset over this and I’m not having it. He’s very ill and he could have died! I will not watch him wither away because of this!”

 

Rodolphus watched the Malfoy boy storm off and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. He tucked away the parchment reports that he had been looking over for the Dark Lord and he took the folder with him as he went hunting down his brother. He stopped off at his room here at Malfoy manor, putting the folder away safely from the prying eyes of the two young boys living here, before he went next door to see if his brother was wallowing in his room instead of trying to fix things with his own Fiancé. He was, which only angered him more.

 

“What are you doing?” He demanded.

 

Rabastan looked up at him then went back to staring at the floor.

 

“Enough, Rabastan.” Rodolphus demanded furiously. “Do you hate Harry that much?”

 

Immediately he had his brother up in his face, baring his teeth.

 

“How dare you say that! I love him!”

 

Rodolphus shoved Rabastan back hard, sending him back into the seat that he’d leapt up from.

 

“Then how about actually showing that you love him instead of being this pathetic, insecure mess that keeps hurting him! He is seriously unwell, Basti, what are you playing at?”

 

“I hate that Flint boy!”

 

“No you don’t, you’d never even met the boy until the Parkinsons party. This is all because he showed the slightest bit of interest in Harry and you felt threatened by it. You need to get used to it, he’s a good looking boy, he’s powerful, rich, he has two Lordships and all at just sixteen. People are going to show an interest in him for any or all of those reasons, they’re going to flirt with him or touch him and there is nothing that you can do about it. There’s nothing that anyone can do about that!”

 

“I love him so much.” Rabastan said dejectedly.

 

“And he loves you! Why do you keep missing that important point? He loves you, Rabastan. He doesn’t want anyone else, he picked you, so get your head out from your arse and treat him properly! He deserves respect, he deserves your trust.”

 

“I don’t know why he’d even want me.” Rabastan said miserably as he looked at his own arms, feeling along the one, picking out every miniscule flaw.

 

“Love is about more than physical appearance, do not insult him by suggesting that he doesn’t love you because of the way you look as you will come across as calling him shallow when he is not.” Rodolphus told him. “He doesn’t care what you look like, Rabastan, he cares for how you treat him, which is why this issue is hurting him the most. Because you are treating him poorly and he’s had enough of being treated like an animal from when he was with those Muggle beasts!”

 

Rabastan’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I would never abuse him as those vile beasts did!”

 

“Oh, but you are getting very close to treating him how they did.” Rodolphus said, his jaw set furiously. “How long before your tongue gets away from you and you start calling him all sorts? How long before he speaks to the wrong person and you hit him for it? How long before someone touches him and you start locking him up and away from anyone and everyone who _might_ touch or talk to him? Enough is enough, Rabastan, you can’t treat him like this, he is not a possession that you own and you can’t control him or those around him. People are bound to flirt with him and try their luck, but he loves you, so he will rebuff them and come right back to you.”

 

“But what if he doesn’t?”

 

“He will.” Rodolphus said firmly. “He might have a soft head and a softer heart, but I’ve gotten fond of him. It is because of that soft heart that he will come back to you. He loves you, Basti, do you not understand what that means?”

 

“I do understand, I just can’t believe it.”

 

“You need to start trusting him and the things he says!” Rodolphus said firmly. “I would kill to have what you do with him! If you want to we can swap, you can have a Wife that you can’t fucking stand and no hope of ever having a child and I will have a beautiful, young boy who truly loves me, who fawns all over me, who is willing to give me several sons. He is so good for you, he supports you, he helps you, he loves you, so what the fuck is your problem, Rabastan?”

 

“You don’t like boys.” Rabastan told him. Rodolphus wanted to curse him, in fact his fingers actually flexed towards his wand and he had to clench his hands into fists to prevent himself from doing so.

 

“I think you just missed the point entirely.” He said, not allowing his brother to squirm out of this talk.

 

“I just…I just want him. I love him so much. I don’t want to lose him.”

 

“This is your response?” Rodolphus demanded. “You carry on in this way, Rabastan, then you are going to send him running for the hills. This is not the way to keep him! The tighter you hold on, the further you’ll push him away. You can’t treat him like a prisoner.”

 

Rabastan flinched at that connection and Rodolphus had finally found the way into his brother’s thick skull.

 

“I’m not treating him like a prisoner!” Rabastan denied vehemently.

 

“Not yet you’re not, but how long will it take, carrying on in this manner, before you start locking him up and keeping watch over him at all times? Checking who visits him or what letters he’s writing and to whom? He’ll end up being your prisoner, not your Husband. But it won’t ever get that far…”

 

“No, it won’t!” Rabastan cut in.

 

“It won’t get that far because Harry is an intelligent little fluff head. He won’t let himself be treated in such an appalling manner and he will break off your engagement before it reaches that point! Sort yourself out, Rabastan and decide what you truly want more, before you lose him, the best thing that has ever happened to you.”

 

Rodolphus considered his point well-made and he left his brother’s bedroom. He was so angry at him for not seeing what the rest of them did. He was angry because Draco was absolutely right, Harry would leave before things got that bad, before Rabastan had a chance to do as such yet again, and he didn’t want to see that happen.

He went to the opposite side of the same floor of the manor and he went to check in on Harry. Harry who was still awake, but already in his pyjamas, who looked absolutely awful.

 

“You okay?” He grunted, a little uncomfortable with this interaction. Since Azkaban he could count on a single hand the amount of people he had spoken to who wasn’t a member of his family. That was not going to stop him however, he just needed to get used to it a little more.

 

Harry gave him a tired smile. “I’m okay, Rodolphus.”

 

“You sure? You look…” He cut himself off before he insulted the young boy and made the situation worse.

 

Harry just chuckled, not in the least bit offended because he wasn’t as vain as the majority of Purebloods who would take offense at such a small thing. “I look bad, I know. It’s been a rough day. Anger always makes me feel worse and forcing myself to concentrate makes me tired…well, more tired than the calcium potion makes me in the first place, but I’m okay, Rodolphus, I just need an early night and I’ll be better by tomorrow.”

 

“Those potions have some very severe after effects.”

 

Harry nodded. “They’re very serious potions.” He countered. “I am very sick, Rodolphus. I can’t…I can’t afford to hold Rabastan’s hand through his insecurities when I have done nothing wrong. I’m too ill to fight, I’m too tired to carry on reassuring him that I’m faithful, that I love him, every time I come into contact with another male. As everyone keeps telling me, I need to put my health first, before anything else, even if that means cutting off Rabastan.”

 

“You don’t want to do that.”

 

“No, I don’t. Look, I know he’s your younger brother and you’re very protective of him, Rodolphus, but he is draining me of everything and with the diagnosis I had in January, I can’t keep wasting energy on this.” Harry threw a hand through his hair and it immediately stuck up in odd directions, staying in place instead of dropping back down like normal hair. “I love him so much, I just wish that he’d believe me. I can’t go through my life fearing what he’ll do if I speak to other men, it’s not fair and it’s ridiculous and I can’t spare the energy at the moment, not until the summer at least.”

 

“You seem to be under the impression that I’m on Rabastan’s side in this.”

 

“Aren’t you always?” Harry said easily, with no heat and a small smile.

 

“Not always and not in this.” Rodolphus said firmly. “He’s out of order and I’ve already told him so.”

 

“Whether he listens or not is another matter entirely.” Harry said tiredly.

 

“He’ll listen.” Rodolphus insisted. “I’ll make him.”

 

Harry sighed and Rodolphus swore that he went three shades paler when he moved himself on the settee.

 

“You’re not going to pass out?” He asked concernedly.

 

Harry gave him a knowing smile. “No. I’m just very tired. I was just about to get to bed when you knocked. I’ve already taken the nutrient potion, but it’s settled wrong on my belly and I feel a bit queasy.”

 

“Drink ginger tea or have a few ginger biscuits.” Rodolphus told him. “It worked for me in the first few months after our liberation, when I had to swallow a different potion every two hours just to adjust to the world outside of the prison and the combination of them used to make me feel so sick that I couldn’t eat, which was obviously bad for my recovery and diet programme. I tried a few things and ginger just before or just after taking the potions helped immensely.”

 

Rodolphus took off out of Harry’s room as quickly as he had Rabastan’s, but not before he heard the quiet, heartfelt ‘thank you’ from Harry behind him. He cursed himself as a sentimental fool, perhaps Rabastan wasn’t the only one that Harry was making soft just by being around after all. The wretched little fluff head that he was.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I believe that this chapter will now be the last update of this year, I have far too much to do in the remaining three weeks and there is too much crammed into the remainder of this year that I’m not going to be around much, so with that, I will bid you all a safe, merry Christmas, happy holidays, and I’ll be seeing you all in the New Year at some point. Enjoy yourselves, lovelies!
> 
> As always, lovelies, thank you for reading and reviewing, I hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter and I’ll be seeing you all in the New Year now,
> 
>    
> StarLight Massacre. X


	18. Insight

_ Last Time _

 

_Rodolphus took off out of Harry’s room as quickly as he had Rabastan’s, but not before he heard the quiet, heartfelt ‘thank you’ from Harry behind him. He cursed himself as a sentimental fool, perhaps Rabastan wasn’t the only one that Harry was making soft just by being around after all. The wretched little fluff head that he was._

 

Chapter Eighteen – Insight

 

Harry slept very late the next morning, he woke up, groggy and a little confused, covered in stale, gel like sweat. The events of yesterday afternoon came back to him slowly and he groaned, rubbing his eyes. He had half a mind to just go back to sleep, but he knew that that wouldn’t do any good and it wouldn’t solve anything either. Hopefully Rodolphus’ talk with his brother last night would have had time to sink in overnight.

Harry sat himself up and groped the bedside table for his glasses. He slipped them on and just took a few minutes to sit quietly before he scooted himself out of his bed and went to his dresser and wardrobe, collecting a pair of boxer-briefs, socks and an outfit before setting them out on his bed and then going into his en suite bathroom to run himself a bath so that he could wash himself…he could actually feel the grime layering his skin and it was very, very unpleasant. He was actually itchy it was that bad.

He didn’t soak for very long, he didn’t feel like it, instead he just scrubbed himself off and got out, wrapping a towel around his body and padding back to his bedroom.

He sat on his bed and just stayed there, he wasn’t truly thinking of anything, his mind was blank and he was staring at one spot without seeing it. He didn’t know why he was doing as such, he just was. He snapped out of it by himself after a few minutes of this silent staring and he took a deep breath, giving a small shake of his head for good measure before towelling himself off and then getting himself dressed and ready for the day, whatever it was going to bring.

He slouched down the stairs, not feeling like himself at all and he found Lucius in the front parlour. He sat near him, saying nothing, not even acknowledging anyone with his usual rounds of ‘good morning.’

 

“Are you feeling well?” Lucius asked as he watched him, unsettled by his rather odd behaviour.

 

Harry nodded. “I’m okay. I’m feeling a little strange, but I’m okay.”

 

“Strange how?” Rabastan asked him worriedly. Harry hadn’t even noticed that he was in the room.

 

Harry shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. Listless is maybe the best way to describe it.”

 

“Are you ill again? Have you come down with the flu again?” Rabastan asked, moving immediately to sit beside him and laying a hand over his forehead.

 

“No. I was very drained yesterday and I had a restless night.”

 

Rabastan flinched only slightly.

 

“Do you know why?” Lucius asked from his other side.

 

“Oh, I know exactly why. Too much thinking, not enough sleep and I was too uncomfortable with the night sweats and as soon as I noticed it, I couldn’t sleep properly afterwards.”

 

“Let me get you something to eat.”

 

“Yeah, great.” He said sarcastically. “Just what I need, that bone strengthening potion and a skull splitting headache on top of the headache that I already have.”

 

“Do not take that tone.” Lucius warned him. “I know that you are unwell, that you’ve been under considerable pressure and stress, but you need to take those potions and keep taking them regardless of anything else.”

 

Harry sighed and he rubbed his head. “I know, I’m sorry. I already have a headache and I know I’m going to be in a lot of pain until the effects of the bone strengthening potion wears off.”

 

“We’ll look after you as soon as you’ve taken it.” Lucius insisted. “There are a few stronger headache relievers that you can use for a very limited amount of time.”

 

“How limited?” Harry asked.

 

“They can only be taken every twelve hours and can’t be taken with anything else.” Rabastan told him.

 

Harry blinked and looked at him as if only just realising that he was there. He pulled his hand from Rabastan’s and shifted to put his back to him. He could almost feel the devastation coming from his Fiancé, but until he got an actual apology, he wasn’t going to accommodate him or his needs.

Harry was allowed to eat his dry toast in the front parlour, brought to him by Pimsey, who he thanked and gave a weak smile. She’d also brought him tea, exactly how he liked it without being asked, a small square of chocolate and the extra strong headache reliever, which was much darker in colour than he was used to.

He could almost feel the questioning stares as he was giving this small feast without asking for it, but he ignored everyone as he nibbled his toast and sipped his tea. It took him twice as long to get through his breakfast because he kept wincing and stopping to allow the throbbing in his head to ease off. He finally made it to the potion and he gripped his teacup in one hand and the potion in the other.

Taking a few breaths, he readied himself and threw the potion back and swallowed painfully, his eyes watering as he brought the tea up with his other hand and gulped it. Once he was done, he picked up the bit of chocolate and jammed it in his mouth to suck on it, so that the taste of the sweet chocolate took away the lingering taste of the vile potion.

Pimsey came back with a fresh, full cup of tea, again without being asked, and she curtseyed to him as she took away his tray with his empty cup and vial and the plate left on it.

 

“Thank you.” He said gratefully as he sat back and he could just enjoy his second cup of tea.

 

“How do you feel now?” Lucius asked him.

 

“Like I could vomit.” He bitched.

 

“The headache?” Lucius persisted.

 

“Still throbbing at my temples, but thankfully easing off, slowly.”

 

“Good.”

 

“It won’t last.” Harry said miserably. “As soon as the bone strengthening potion hits…”

 

“It should have taken the edge off, at least.” Lucius interrupted him.

 

Harry sat quietly, almost feeling the headache easing off, before he shot forward, his half full cup of tea tumbling to the floor while Harry cursed as his hand went to his right temple, pressing against it hard, as if he were trying to hold in his brain.

 

“The after effects?” Lucius questioned, ignoring that Harry had just spilled tea all over the carpet…it could easily be cleaned.

 

Harry nodded, bending down to pick up the cup, that had thankfully not broken as he did not want to deal with a lecture from Narcissa about breaking her fine china, regardless that a simple spell could put it back together. He pressed his other hand to his left temple as that started to throb too. A minute later he was clenching his hands into his hair and squashing his head between both hands as he tried to control the pain that he was feeling. It seemed a million times worse than normal.

Rabastan was holding him and Harry didn’t even care enough to push him off. He was growling and grunting through the pain though, trying to control himself as he did during the Wizengamot sessions, but he couldn’t put a lid on the pain, it was just too much for him to contain, he couldn’t control it and he couldn’t control himself.

 

“How can I help?” Rabastan asked, clearly not knowing what to do, but wanting to do something.

 

“Just knock me out.” Harry pleaded. “Let me sleep it off.”

 

Harry’s vision started blurring and he closed his eyes, screwing them up as the headache spiked and he actually retched.

 

“Calm yourself.” He heard Lucius coax. A hand was rubbing his back, one was cradling the back of his skull…that had to have been Rabastan.

 

“I can’t.” He insisted desperately, even as he retched again. “Just put me to sleep, please.” He begged. It wouldn’t be long before he was actually sick and he didn’t want to go through such a humiliating experience while his adoptive Father, his Fiancé and his in-laws watched on.

 

The next he knew, yet another potion was being nudged at his lips. Harry opened his mouth and swallowed dutifully as it was slowly trickled into his mouth. He retched again, trying desperately to hold his stomach in place and he shivered in revulsion at the taste.

It took a minute for this potion to work, it was a sleeping potion, and it knocked him right out.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Rabastan held Harry tightly in his lap, worried and a little frightened as the Healer checked Harry over. The man had been sworn to his oaths to reveal nothing today, mainly about Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, sitting calmly, if a bit worriedly, in the same room as Harry James Potter.

The Healer was nervous, almost petrified, but he was incredibly good at his job and he used it as an escape as he gently checked over the sleeping boy. When he’d first been sworn to his oaths, he’d believed that, once again, it was because he was to be dealing with Harry Potter, one of the most well-known figures in wizarding Britain. Now he knew better as he shifted his gaze once again to the terrifying image of the Lestrange brothers, who had escaped from Azkaban nearly a year and a half ago, sitting calmly in the room, silent as they watched his every move closely. It was unnerving, being under such close, silent scrutiny and because the two brothers were in the same room as Harry Potter himself. His usually rather sharp mind seemed dull and slow with the terror of being in the same room as the two Lestrange brothers as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Rabastan watched closely, critically, as the Healer waved his wand and prodded at Harry gently.

 

“He’s alright.” The Healer said and Rabastan bared his teeth and growled furiously.

 

“He’s not alright or he wouldn’t be like this!” He denied.

 

“He’s alright now.” The Healer said, a note of stress in his voice. “You said that he woke up with a headache? And that he had to take his bone strengthening potion almost before it was gone?”

 

“That’s right.” Lucius replied calmly.

 

“This is simply a case of him feeling far too much pain and it made him physically sick.”

 

“He has a very high pain threshold.”

 

“Everyone reaches a limit somewhere.” The Healer insisted. “Harry is already seriously sick, his normal threshold would be lowered because of that. The after effects of the bone strengthening potion might have knocked him out on its own today, without an additional headache beforehand. Let him sleep off the effects for now and let him rest when he wakes up. He is going to be fine if he just takes it easy and rests.”

 

“Are these potions working for him?” Lucius demanded.

 

The Healer did a few more checks. “They are yes, his bones are showing a marked improvement and so is his nutrition. He hasn’t missed any doses?”

 

“Not a single one.” Lucius replied promptly, trusting that if Harry had missed a dose, it would have immediately been mentioned.

 

The Healer nodded. “Then I would say that come early June, or maybe even late May, then he can gradually come off of them. He can start taking them every other day instead of every day and he can even stage them if he needs to, so that he is taking just one potion one day and another on a different day, to make the after effects easier for him to manage and if he carries on in this way, showing such good progress, then he’ll be off of them by June or July.”

 

Rabastan let out a relieved sigh and he petted Harry’s hair gently.

 

“He will enjoy that news.” He said, almost to himself as he focused his all on Harry in his lap.

 

He let Lucius see the Healer out. To be extra cautious the blond was going to remove certain memories of the Healer seeing him and Dolphus here, just in case, as he stayed with Harry, holding him and touching him, hoping to ease away his pain in his potion induced sleep.  

He stroked Harry’s beautiful face with his other hand, trying not to notice how very pale he was. He was almost grey in colour and he hated that, in a way, he was responsible for it due to the stress that he had caused Harry yesterday. He just couldn’t control himself or his jealousy when other men started hovering and sniffing around Harry. He got scared that Harry would see someone better, someone stronger and that he would realise that he could have someone who was more handsome, someone who could lift him with ease and if he had prolonged contact with other men, then it would be easier for others to take Harry away from him.

He knew that Harry kept saying that he loved only him, that he didn’t want anyone else, but that was so easy to say, it was just words. Harry could easily have anyone that he wanted being as beautiful, as wonderful as he was and he was just so worried that one day Harry would meet someone else and realise what a mistake he’d made in staying with him.

 

“Stop it.” Rodolphus growled at him.

 

Rabastan blinked and stopped running his hand through Harry’s hair.

 

“Not that, you know exactly what I was referring to. Your thoughts were passing over your face as clear as day. He fucking loves you, Rabastan, stop ruining your own relationship!” Rodolphus hissed.

 

“I can’t help it.” He insisted. “I don’t want to lose him.”

 

“The only way that you’re going to lose him is by pushing him away yourself! Did my talk last night not sink in?” Rodolphus demanded. “Perhaps I need to beat it into you instead! I won’t see you continue to hurt him in such a way. I love you, you’re my brother, but I get so frustrated and angry when I see you being so fucking stupid and throwing away the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you.”

 

“I don’t want to drive him away.”

 

“Then show some trust in him, Rabastan! This jealous hovering is going to be the cause of him running away, not anyone else, not him meeting up with a thousand other men, but you. Stop it.”

 

Rabastan nodded and he went back to stroking Harry’s hair and watching over him, waiting for him to wake up. He had a lot of making up to do and he would need to work on his self-control. He couldn’t help it, but he didn’t want to be the reason that Harry turned from him. That would be worse than if Harry did meet someone else and leave him.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry woke up groggily, with the dazed feeling of a drugged, potion induced sleep. He groaned and rubbed his eyes and peered about him blearily.

He sat up and then went wandering, he was back in his bedroom, so someone must have put him back to bed after his incident that morning, but he was still wearing the outfit that he’d put on that morning, so he hadn’t been stripped or changed back into his pyjamas.

He made sure to pick up his calcium potion from where he’d left them on his living room table and he put it in his pocket before he went back down the stairs and he got a sense of déjà vu as he rubbed his eyes again, a little dizzy, but this time it was likely the lingering effects of being put into a potion induced sleep. The headache was just a distant, pain filled memory, he felt fine otherwise.

Unlike earlier that morning, he made his way to the dining room, where the rest of his family were sat eating. He heard them before he reached the room.

 

“Should I go and wake Harry? He needs to take his calcium potion.” Draco was fretting.

 

“Leave him a while longer, Draco. The potion should have worn off by now, he will wake up when he is ready and then he can have a light lunch and then take the calcium potion. He needs the rest.”

 

“I’m okay.” He rasped as he walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

 

Rabastan all but leapt up as if he’d been electrocuted and he came to him immediately, escorting him to the table and fluttering around him while Harry squinted up at him through eyes that weren’t quite focused enough, or even fully opened yet.

He was handed a glass of water and Harry took it and sipped, the coolness waking him up more effectively. He sighed and smiled.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“How are you feeling?” Lucius asked him.

 

“Better than I was this morning.” He said with a wry smile. “I am sorry about that.”

 

“How many times, Harry, you do not apologise for sickness, there is no need.” Lucius told him.

 

“Are you feeling better, darling?” Narcissa asked him.

 

Harry nodded as Rabastan settled beside him. “I do feel much better now that the headache has gone. I wish I could sleep through all of them, but the one this morning was several times as bad as normal. I just couldn’t handle it.”

 

“That is more than alright, Harry. Have something light and easy for lunch and then rest for a little longer.”

 

Harry nodded and he asked Pimsey, politely, for some pumpkin soup. He’d gotten a taste for it while he’d been unwell at Hogwarts. He ate slowly, but steadily, after she’d brought him what he’d asked for, as he dipped some seeded, whole wheat bread into the soup and nibbled on that too.

He ignored the close scrutiny that the rest of the table were giving him as he ate, particularly Rabastan who was sat beside him. He had not forgotten, nor forgiven, Rabastan for the fight on his first full day back home from Hogwarts.

Everyone else was already on their after meal cups of tea when Harry finally finished and he knew exactly what was coming as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a calcium potion. He unstoppered it and knocked it back with a screwed up face. He took the tea that Rabastan had made up for him and gulped it down, making an odd noise as he stopped for a breath.

 

“That one makes you sleepy, doesn’t it?” Draco asked.

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, but I think I’ve slept enough now after my forced morning nap.”

 

“I do apologise about forcing a sleeping potion on you, but you were crying out for us to knock you out and put you to sleep.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry nodded his understanding. “I know, I remember. It was the best thing to do in that situation. It was probably the only thing possible to do in that situation. I’m glad to have woken up without the headache and the side effect of the potion worn off.”

 

“Are you in any pain currently?” Rabastan asked him worriedly.

 

Harry shook his head. “No, not at the moment.”

 

“I…about yesterday.”

 

“Don’t.” Harry replied bad-temperedly. “I’m not in the mood to hear anything about it just yet. At least let me wake up a little first and then we can talk about yesterday.”

 

Truthfully Harry didn’t want to talk about it at all. It was his, rather childish, wish that it had never happened in the first place. It felt like yet another blow to the gut to find out that Rabastan still didn’t trust him, that this issue still hadn’t been resolved despite Harry proving his innocence and his fidelity. Would he have to do so yet again? Would he have to take more Veritaserum and answer those questions again? If so would that become his life from now on? Taking Veritaserum every couple of months to prove that he hadn’t been sleeping around or messing with anyone else? Would their children be claimed as bastards until proven otherwise too? He just couldn’t take that sort of blatant distrust and humiliation. He touched a hand to his head as it gave a warning throb and he moaned softly.

 

“Surely your headache isn’t coming back?” Xerxes said, astounded.

 

“It’s trying to.” He said as he rubbed his forehead.

 

“Please, let me help.” Rabastan all but begged him.

 

“Help? I rather thought that you were the cause of it to begin with.” Harry snapped.

 

“Harry.” Lucius said in warning.

 

Harry held his hands up and said nothing more in a sign of surrender. He went back to rubbing his temples. He could almost see Rodolphus glaring at his brother, so it came as no surprise to him when Rabastan stood up and hefted him up too, and steered him away, to a small, intimate sitting room.

 

“Well it took you long enough.” Harry said as he sat himself down on one of the settees, still rubbing his head.

 

“You were waiting for me to drag you away to explain myself?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yes. As I was waiting during the Parkinsons winter gala for you to stand up for me, I was doing the same today. You don’t trust me and I am now having doubts that you actually love me at all. Perhaps this so called relationship is just following orders for you.”

 

“How can you doubt that I love you?” Rabastan asked, his face falling in devastation. “Of course I’m not doing this on orders. You were always worth more than that, right from the beginning. We were betrothed even before those orders came through! I love you.”

 

“It’s not a serious doubt, just a little niggle that refuses to go away. You’re not acting like you trust me, Rabastan, if you can’t trust me then there is no love.”

 

“I have told you before, I do trust you!”

 

“Oh yes, it’s everyone else whom you distrust, isn’t it?” Harry asked his eyes hardening dangerously. “It amounts to the same thing, Rabastan! I have proven myself, both in my purity and in being able to protect myself, why won’t you trust that I can look after myself, Rabastan? That if something, anything, happens that I can take care of it myself, as I’ve been doing for most of my life.”

 

“Because I love you and I don’t want anything to ever happen to you!” Rabastan replied, his voice straining in his upset.

 

Harry immediately sat forward and placed a comforting hand on Rabastan’s knee, silently supporting him as they had this out, once and for all. For what would be the last time, because if this issue ever came up again, then he would walk away…from Rabastan and their engagement, no matter how much it would hurt him to do so.

 

“That isn’t a realistic outlook, Rabastan.” He said gently. “Not everyone likes me and perhaps I will be caught off guard and get hurt, but there is nothing that anyone can do about that. You can’t wrap me up in cotton wool and lock me in the manor and never let me out. I am to be your husband, not your prisoner.”

 

Rabastan flinched and averted his gaze. “Is that how you see me? As a prison guard?”

 

Harry sighed. “It comes across that way, Rabastan. It truly does. You can’t dictate what I do or where I go, when or with who. How would you feel if I started doing it to you? Saying that you couldn’t talk to whomever you wanted, that you weren’t allowed to do what you wanted to do. It’s not a nice thing to do, Rabastan, it comes across as controlling and if allowed to continue, it could turn into abusive behaviour and I can’t allow it to continue.”

 

“You really think that I could be abusive towards you?”

 

“Not with fists or with spells, Rabastan, not physically, but mentally. If this is allowed to continue, then we’re not going to have any sort of relationship. You will be controlling me and I will come to resent you in time. I don’t want that, do you?”

 

“No, of course not!” Rabastan denied immediately.

 

“Then please stop this behaviour. I know it’ll be difficult, I know it’ll take work and some time, but please try to get over your insecurities and jealousy, I need you to trust me, to trust that I love you and won’t leave you because I won’t. I need to be able to come to you for everything, to tell you everything and at the moment I don’t feel like I’m able to. I don’t want you to shout at me or be upset just because I tell you things that maybe you don’t like or don’t want to hear. The stress of yesterday seriously affected me, to the point where I needed to be knocked out in order to recover this morning. It can’t happen again.”

 

“It won’t, I was so worried about you.” Rabastan told him, breathing out shakily. He shifted forward and placed his hands over Harry’s own. “I hate myself for causing you any sort of pain, but I can’t seem to help myself. I just…I couldn’t help myself when Flint came to take your time away from me.”

 

Harry smiled. “I know that this is our time, that we only have a small amount of time together before I have to go back to school, but I need this tutoring too, Rabastan. It’s only for a few hours every couple of days. The rest of my time will be with you, of course. I love you. I want to spend all of my time with you, but there are other things that I need to do too.”

 

“I understand.” Rabastan said, and he truly did too. He sighed and shifted himself until he was sitting next to Harry and he wrapped his arm around those slim, narrow shoulders. “It’s more difficult with Flint because I saw him kiss you, and then you were attacked by Rowle right afterwards, then Rowle attacked you again, seriously, just a week later.”

 

“And look what happened to Rowle when he attacked me in the downstairs bathroom, Rabastan, or have you forgotten that I broke his arm and blew off his leg?”

 

“No, I could hardly forget about that, Rodolphus brings it up often. He’s very proud of you for that display of power and ruthlessness.”

 

“I can take care of myself, Rabastan, I’m more than capable of looking after and protecting myself from others, I’ve been doing it for most of my life, with…with the not so great upbringing I had and then being pitched against Voldemort like a fucking weapon, I had to look after myself because no one else did.”

 

Rabastan froze, literally froze, and stared at him in horror as Harry voiced his Lord’s name and Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“Calm down, love. I refuse to call him anything so ridiculous as he-who-must-not-be-named or you-know-who and he’s not my lord. Voldemort was the name that he chose for himself, it seems to me that he wanted people to use it.”

 

Rabastan said nothing, so Harry chose to change the subject.

 

“Now, can we please put this behind us and start over, again.”

 

Rabastan nodded and the older man almost cheered to himself as immediately afterwards Harry turned to cuddle into his side, nuzzling his face against Rabastan’s chest.

 

“No more jealousy, no more trust issues, no more doubting my love.” Harry said into his robes, his voice slightly muffled as he refused to pull his face away from the fabric that it was pressed against. “I don’t want anyone else, I want you and it kills me inside to think that you don’t believe me when I’m being so honest and upfront.”

 

“I do believe you!” Rabastan said immediately. “You’re just so beautiful and so damned trusting! You see the good in everyone, even me and I know that people will take advantage of that and hurt you! I don’t want you to ever be hurt. I don’t trust other people not to hurt you or break your trust.”

 

“That’s up to them, Rabastan, if they want to betray my trust, then it’s on them, not me and certainly not you. There are going to be times where I’m going to need to put my trust in other people for things, perhaps even people who I don’t want to trust or whom I doubt, but I’m still going to need to put my faith in them for things that I need. If they turn around and betray me, then they’ll betray me whether you’re there or not, my love. But I can assure you that my retribution towards those who do betray me will play out much in the same way that it did for Rowle, the extent of the betrayal dictating the severity of the actions I choose to retaliate with, of course.”

 

Rabastan smiled at hearing that, but mostly he just relished having Harry sprawled over his chest again. He could touch Harry’s back and stroke his hair as Harry cuddled in tight, his arms around Rabastan’s waist, gentle fingers caressing his ribs, it felt so nice and he hummed gently.

He settled himself down and he sighed quietly, his arms pulling Harry just a smidgen closer. He never wanted anyone to betray Harry, but he also understood what Harry was saying, about it being out of their control and that it probably would happen, at least once, in the future. He would just have to be here when it did happen, to limit the damage or danger to Harry and to help him plan his perfect revenge, whether he chose to do it slowly over time, or quick and brutal as he’d done with Rowle, he would support Harry wholeheartedly, of that he swore.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Bill Weasley looked critically at his battered and scuffed pocket watch before slotting it back into his robe pocket with an irritable sigh. He had five minutes left of his twenty-ninth consecutive shift at Gringotts bank and he was so tired and so tense that his shoulders and neck ached constantly and no amount of rubbing or frequent muscle relaxants helped alleviate the pain.

He rubbed at his sore, red raw eyes, knowing that rubbing them would make them worse, but being unable to prevent it as another jaw breaking yawn made them water annoyingly. He was so exhausted, so stressed, yet every time he thought of taking a break all he had to do was think of his Mother’s crumpled, worried face as he heard her sobbing at night, the both of them kept awake by the massive debt hanging over their heads.

He had immediately asked for as much overtime as he could get, working later on his normal shifts, offering himself up for the weekend shifts and even pulling double shifts, just to earn more gold to pay off Harry Potter and Lucius Malfoy. The thought that he was working all of this overtime, exhausting himself and making himself sick just for them, galled him, but it was to help his family and there was nothing that he could do about it.

He sighed again and groped in his pocket so that he could cast another weary eyed glance at his pocket watch. Time mocked him as it showed that not two minutes had passed since he’d last checked and he still had three minutes until he could leave, five hours after his usual shift had ended. He knew that he should just be thankful that the bank was busy and that there was overtime for him to work. Charlie had been unable to get much in the way of overtime, even being a senior handler didn’t help him much as there were enough of them to cover every hour of every day and the senior Dragonologist at the Romanian reserve had every single moment already covered and he didn’t need anyone else on duty unless one of the other handlers got injured or sick. Charlie had even offered to cover shifts at other reserves, of course it meant travelling to other countries to work with dragons that he didn’t know and who didn’t know him, which put him at elevated risk, but it was all Charlie could do in way of helping them to pay off the debt.

Bill yawned again and he daydreamed about stripping off his robes and just falling into bed. Of course he couldn’t do any such thing, as soon as he was done here he’d have to immediately pick up the ancient, dusty tome that he’d put down to come in for his extended shift at the bank and read up about more laws that were apparently as old as time itself if how backward they were was any indication, all to prepare himself for his first ever Wizengamot meeting, which could be at any moment now that his application had been approved at the end of March. He was almost grateful for it really, as it gave him a stipend every month that, combined with his wages from the bank, would go a long way to helping to clear the debt that Harry Potter had thrust onto them.

At dead on eight in the evening, Bill tapped his wand on his desk, signing himself out of work with his wand signature before he packed up what he needed to and then he left the bank, exhaustion making him slow and rather sluggish as he popped in on Fred and George, who were only just closing up their shop.

 

“Are you two alright?” He asked them in brotherly concern.

 

“Never better.” One, whom he believed was George, replied as he swept a hand over his forehead, tugging on his unwashed ginger hair.

 

“We’ve spent so much time researching that we barely have time to sleep.” The other told him.

 

“Is that where this came from?” He demanded worriedly as he touched his fingers just below a rather nasty cut on his brother’s cheek. Fred just grunted and knocked his hand away. “You can’t develop new things while tired, it’s dangerous.” He lectured.

 

“Says you whose been pulling triple shifts and hasn’t had a day off in a month and a half!”

 

“I’m on desk work.” He explained. “I’m not out in Egypt working with the tombs anymore. I’m doing research for the cursebreakers who send back patterns and need advice or I’m cataloguing treasure found in the tombs for the bank.”

 

“A pity you can’t just take a handful of gems and sell them.” One twin, George, groused.

 

“Theft from the goblins is still a death offence in their nation.” Bill said seriously, though with any luck he could change that ancient, unused law. It was diabolical that it was still a written law when it wasn’t used. It was one of the laws that Dumbledore had asked him to revoke while he sat on the Wizengamot.

 

“Not in ours.” Fred pointed out.

 

“Do you want to see me in Azkaban so much?” He demanded. “It’s bad enough that Ron and Ginny are thieves and we’re all paying the price for their actions, do you want our family to be remembered as a bunch of thieves with me in Azkaban?”

 

“No. I was just saying that a handful of gold or gems would help us out right about now. Of course I don’t want you in prison.”

 

“Mum told me about the pranks you’re pulling on Ron and Ginny too. It’s upset her.”

 

Fred immediately scoffed and George snorted. “It’s no less than they deserve for getting us into this mess! Dad was right, it’s their fault.”

 

“Harry could have spoken to us and worked things out another way.” Bill snarled. “There was no need for him to do this, to demand that we repay him formally for all the lavish junk that Lucius Malfoy bought for him! The basics would have done, he didn’t need all the extras as well. The Firebolt was enough on its own, without hand carved trunks and the finest thread count cotton robes.”

 

The two boys nodded their agreement to that.

 

“It was still Ron and Ginny’s fault though.” George said determinedly. “We won’t stop pranking them, they deserve to know that this is on them.”

 

“They already know.” Bill stressed. “Let them focus on their exams now so that they can at least get the best marks possible so that they can get better jobs. Mum’s already told them they have to get summer jobs to help out the family, leave them alone, at least until they’ve done their exams.”

 

The twins looked at one another for a moment and then they both nodded and Bill nodded back.

 

“Can I use your floo?” He asked.

 

“Sure, it’s through the back. We need to start our research for the night anyway.”

 

“Get some more sleep.” He told them seriously, eyeing up the bad cut on Fred’s cheek. “You can’t take risks with inventing spells or potions, you’ll end up killing yourselves, or each other.” He added, knowing that the possibility of killing their twin would actually sink through to them. It did as they looked at one another again, in distress this time, at his stern words.

 

Bill left the twins to themselves as he flooed back to his parents’ home and he didn’t even stop to take off his robes or boots or to even make himself a cup of tea. He went right up to his childhood bedroom and to the desk under the window and he sat down in the uncomfortable wooden chair and he cracked open the age spotted book that was almost as thick as his upright index finger.

He started reading where he’d left off early that morning, trying to take in the mind numbing words of men long dead and who had apparently been touched in the head as he read through their proposals that had been made into laws that still stood to this day. Dumbledore had been in the process of phasing out these old, useless laws or updating them so that they better fit modern needs, but he hadn’t gotten to finish even half of them before Harry had snatched the votes and the Chief Warlock title from his grasp and took up the seats himself.

He was way too young in Bill’s opinion, he himself barely understood what he was reading or what it actually meant, so he had no doubts that Harry, a young sixteen year old, had no clue what damage he’d truly done when he’d taken those seats from Dumbledore and then refused to give them back when asked. It was now up to him to try and fix things, to finish what Dumbledore had started and change all these backward laws and clauses and regulations that were so ridiculous that Bill couldn’t even imagine them being brought up in a case, let alone actually enforced as a law. The very thought of any of these so called laws being taken seriously was laughable.

It was his job now, given to him by Dumbledore, to change what he could and to remove those laws that couldn’t be changed or modified, as well as keeping an eye on Harry and Malfoy, of course. He needed to think on his toes and oppose anything that they put forward that could possibly be damaging, especially anything that derailed the betterment or advancement of Muggleborns. He went back to the book and read more about these ridiculous people with their ridiculous suggestions as he tried to keep his eyes open and from nodding off as he read boring tirade after boring tirade, knowing how important this was and how much the Order was counting on him for this.

What seemed like only moments later Bill woke up, his face almost glued to the musty book and he wanted to kick himself as he realised what had happened. He’d fallen asleep while reading and he couldn’t even remember doing it. He slid his pocket watch out of his robe pocket and closed his eyes in horror. It was quarter to eight in the morning, he was almost an hour late for his shift at the bank, he hadn’t eaten, showered or changed out of his robes from the day before. It was too much, it was all just too much and he couldn’t keep his head above the water as he slowly drowned in his workload.

Getting up, he stretched and decided to look at the silver lining here…at least he’d finally gotten some decent sleep. He decided to take a quick shower before grabbing something to eat and then going to make his excuses to the goblins, hoping that all of his overtime shifts had put him in good stead to apologise for missing an hour or so from his regular shift.

It was as he was in the shower however, that things started to go very badly wrong, as dead on eight in the morning, the ring he was forced to wear on his right hand heated up, alerting him that a Wizengamot meeting had been called. His very first meeting and it had been called while he was in the shower, covered in soap and shampoo.

He rinsed off as quickly as he could, he all but fell out of the bath as he lurched at his wand for a drying spell and he quickly hurried back to his bedroom to grab his best robes that he’d hung up and had ready for the last few months. It had been his last purchase, in the New Year, before that bill had arrived and they’d all had to cut back on their spending. He was sure that his parents were missing meals, but as he never caught them at it, because he was always in work, he couldn’t prove anything and when he asked, they both denied it. In his opinion that was a cut back too far, missing meals was going to do nothing but make them both ill.

He cursed as he realised that he was dangerously close to being late for this meeting and he almost forced his limbs into his robes and made sure that he had everything that he needed with him. He wasn’t ready for this, not by far, even as he Apparated to the Ministry for his first ever Wizengamot meeting as Lord Weasley, he wasn’t ready.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry had spent the last few days just basking in Rabastan’s attention and that morning was no different as he sat with his legs twined around Rabastan’s as they finished breakfast. That was when Harry’s day took a bad turn, as his Lordship rings heated up just as he had swallowed down his bone strengthening potion and the standard headache reliever to take away the edge of the headache the former potion would give him.

 

“Not now.” He moaned as he rubbed his temples as the familiar pounding started in his head.

 

“What is it?” Rabastan asked concernedly.

 

“A meeting has just been called.” Xerxes informed his Grandson as he stood up and smoothened out the invisible creases in his robes.

 

“It will be fine, Harry, it’s just a normal meeting.” Lucius informed him. “You know from your early days that this is just a catch up meeting held every few months to keep us from being idle.”

 

“I’d rather stay idle.” Harry whined as he palmed his forehead and squeezed.

 

“In your current condition I would imagine that you would.” Lucius said dryly. “Fortunately we are unlikely to be debating anything of any kind this morning unless any proposals have been put forward of course, now come along. There is nothing that can be done about the called meeting and it would not do to be late. The sooner we arrive, the sooner you can come back.”

 

Harry nodded and he stood on wobbly feet. He steadied himself with the table, and with Rabastan’s hand at his back, before he turned to his Fiancé and cupped both of his cheeks and lowered his head to kiss him soundly.

 

“I’ll be back soon, my love.” He insisted.

 

Rabastan grinned at him, even as Rodolphus scoffed at their behaviour and Draco rolled his eyes.

 

“Make them all look stupid, Harry. Nothing makes me happier than hearing that you’ve successfully debated older people into a dead end or defended yourself from such verbal attacks. You make me so proud.”

 

Harry grinned and he couldn’t help ducking down for another kiss, his hands on Rabastan’s shoulders for stability. Rabastan’s hands lightly squeezed his waist and Harry regretfully pulled away.

 

“I’ll hopefully be back before lunch, be ready for snuggling because I’m going to need it.”

 

“Hurry up and leave before you make me vomit up my breakfast.” Rodolphus demanded.

 

Harry walked around the table and when he reached where Rodolphus was sat, he wrapped his back up in a hug, his arms around Rodolphus’ neck, planting a kiss on his cheek.

 

“Don’t worry, you’re still my favourite brother…in-law.” He added with a cheeky grin when Draco went to protest.

 

“Anytime today, Harry.” Lucius chided him.

 

“On my way.” Harry smiled, trying to bury the pain he felt under forced smiles and bright, cheeriness as he made it over to Lucius and allowed the man, who had summoned a robe that matched Harry’s shirt perfectly, to help him slip into said robe, before he took his adoptive Father’s arm as they were Apparated to the Ministry.

 

Harry had to hold on tight and really work to hold his stomach in place. He’d locked his knees to stop himself from hitting the floor and he was forced to rely on Lucius to walk him forward and Xerxes’ hand on his back to steer him as he focused his all on putting one foot in front of the other.

They stopped by the repaired Fountain of Magical Brethren and they started talking to one another softly, giving Harry a moment to calm himself and regain control. He was grateful for the scant few moments that he was allowed as he needed it to pull out his ‘Lord’ persona so that he could cover the dizzy wave of pain that Apparating had caused him.

Once he’d stopped seeing double, he lightly squeezed Lucius’ arm and took a half step away.  

 

“Do you feel better?” Lucius asked him.

 

“Better? No, not at all. In control, yes.” He answered as he subtly lifted a hand to massage his skull.

 

“Let us take our seats in the meeting room then, so that you can sit down. You stay in between Xerxes and I.”

 

Harry nodded, it was usual these days for him to find himself sandwiched between Lucius and Xerxes. It had been the same ever since Xerxes, as the Head of the Lestrange family, had accepted the betrothal contract between him and Rabastan. It was almost like he was protecting his investment, as without him, Rabastan’s only suitor, the next generation of Lestranges would never be born. As the very thought of Rodolphus and Bellatrix sleeping together and having a baby was laughable, if a little terrifying, not least for the poor hypothetical baby born between them. That left only Rabastan to carry on the Lestrange name, Rabastan who was getting much better in recent months and had been made his Grandfather’s Heir shortly after they’d been betrothed, but he was still recovering from fifteen years in the maximum security cells in Azkaban and with Harry as his only suitor, the next generation of Lestranges were far from assured, because if the Lestranges lost him, they’d have nothing left to fall back on.  
So Xerxes always being beside him in public seemed like he was protecting the next generation of Lestranges, at least Harry would have believed that Xerxes was merely protecting his ‘investment’ if he hadn’t seen exactly how much Xerxes actually liked him as a person, so perhaps now it as a little bit of both, protecting him as a person and protecting the future Lestranges.

They made it to the Wizengamot meeting room, with its ‘D’ shaped table, and Harry sat in one of the comfy chairs, once again flanked by Lucius and Xerxes. He smiled courteously and greeted those around him pleasantly, he only managed any true genuine feelings of pleasure when he greeted Lord Dawson Shacklebolt.

 

“You’re looking a little under the weather, if I may say so.” Lord Dawson said to him concernedly after their greetings.

 

“It’s nothing that won’t pass soon enough.” Harry assured him truthfully.

 

“Perhaps taking things a little easier would help, it can’t be easy to juggle these responsibilities and your school work too.”

 

Harry didn’t take any offense at that, he instead saw it for what it was, genuine concern from a man who was a father and grandfather himself.

 

Harry chuckled lightly. “Yes, I have found that out for myself. I overdid it last term and fell sick as a result. I have since cut back where I can, in order to focus more on my health after I was reminded that yes, it is the most important thing.”

 

Lord Dawson chuckled deeply. “Ah, the infallibility of youth, thinking that you can all take on the world and come out the victor. At least you have learned young about such follies.”

 

Harry inclined his head with a grin. “Indeed. Well this time the world hit back and gave me the flu, even then I still tried to struggle on through it, playing it off as a mere cold, but I’ve since learned that taking it easy doesn’t mean giving in or admitting defeat. Sometimes travelling at a slower, calmer pace can reveal things that weren’t to be seen at a faster, more strenuous pace.”

 

Lord Dawson shook his head. “You truly are a marvel. Lucius, your son has come a very long way indeed.”

 

Lucius smirked before looking at Harry in pride. “He has, I agree. I could not be more proud of him.”

 

Harry wanted to grin like a fool, but he controlled himself. He always liked hearing such declarations and he couldn’t quite help himself as his back straightened more and his hands clasped together in front of him on the table, being sure to keep his elbows off, of course, remembering Narcissa’s lessons well, tables were for hands, not for elbows or feet.

It seemed that they were all waiting around a little longer than usual and Harry wondered why, right up until someone hurried into the room and all but dived into the last remaining seat…they’d been waiting for a late straggler.

Harry could not have been more surprised if Voldemort himself had walked into the room as he realised that the latecomer was Bill Weasley. Lucius’ extra deep breath and Xerxes’ sharp inhale of surprise let him know that this had come as news to the both of them too.

 

“I can call you all to order, now that you’re all present.” Runcorn said dispassionately.

 

Harry, who had been staring at Bill, watched him flush in embarrassment. Harry probably would have done so too, if he had been so late to such a summons, and on his first meeting too.

 

“It is Wednesday the twenty-sixth of March, at twenty past eight in the morning, I welcome you, esteemed Lords and Ladies of the wizarding world, and Heads of all reputable Departments of the Ministry of Magic. Today we welcome Lord William Weasley, in place of his Father, who is unable to claim the family Lordship due to a blood traitor status. Lord Weasley has denounced his family ways and has, in his heart, disowned the named traitor, Bilius Weasley.”

 

Harry blinked in surprise before he narrowed his gaze. There was no way that Bill had parted from his family or their beliefs, he’d only known Bill, and Charlie for that matter, for a short amount of time, but out of the two of them, Bill had been the biggest advocate of his family. He felt responsible for them because he was the oldest. Harry didn’t believe for one moment that Bill had gone against his Father’s wishes and denounced Bilius Weasley or that he cared a damn about their blood traitor status…if anyone from that family were to do as such, he would have expected it to be Charlie or even Percy, but not Bill.

Looking at Bill now, in his clean cut robes, his hair brushed and tied back and his fang earring absent, Harry barely recognised the man who refused to allow his Mother to cut his hair. It just didn’t seem right, something really was wrong here.

 

“This Wizengamot truly is going to shit.” Xerxes growled under his breath. “First the Mudblood Heads of Department, now blood traitors sworn in on a technicality!”

 

Harry turned his head sharply and gave the man a stern look.

 

“Oh, of course your _delicate_ sensibilities would rear up over this, wouldn’t they? I suppose you believe everything that you’re told, don’t you?”

 

“I believe he was pointing out your politically incorrect use of the derogatory term for Muggleborns while in this room.” Lucius pointed out icily. “Regain control of your anger or risk looking a fool.”

 

Xerxes clenched his teeth and his fists, but he started breathing deeply and calmly to regain control of himself. Several moments later he placed a hand on Harry’s knee and squeezed gently, offering a wordless apology for snapping in his anger. Harry nodded his head once, to acknowledge the apology and to accept it. He could very well understand why Xerxes was upset, why any of the Purebloods would be upset over this, as he had the feeling that Bill was lying, just to get himself in on the Wizengamot meetings. There was only one reason that Bill would have thought to have done this, and it just reeked of Dumbledore’s meddling interference.

 

“Our first order of business today is to discuss a proposal anonymously dropped into my tray about magical creature control. This proposal was deeply lined with prejudice and discriminatory language and urges us, this Wizengamot, to impose even stricter laws upon all those who have been classed as magical creatures, including but not limited to, werewolves, vampires, veela and faeries.” Albert Runcorn started, reading from the parchment in front of him in a full monotone that clearly indicated his boredom and lack of passion in the proposal. “Would anyone like to start this session with an opening statement?”

 

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to shove away the pounding headache so that he could focus on the matter at hand as immediately after Runcorn stopped speaking little hissed whispers of conversation started up all around the room as people discussed the outlined proposal with their neighbours.

Unfortunately for Harry anger always made his head hurt worse and that was exactly what was going to happen if he was forced to debate an argument with some of the more idiotic, prejudiced members of the Wizengamot.

He cleared his throat and caught the attention of Runcorn, who nodded his head and indicated towards him.

 

“This body recognises Lord Potter-Black and will hear him.”

 

“I was merely wondering what this new proposal suggested in way of _stricter_ control.” He inquired politely. He wanted to know who had even thought that the magical creatures needed even stricter control upon them and exactly how it was even possible when it seemed to him that they were already controlled to the point of slavery, as they could hardly take a single step without being told to do so. The very thought of even more restrictions being placed upon them all as a whole, when they already had so much of their own lives dictated to them, was utterly vile in Harry’s opinion and he was very curious as to how the person who had written this proposal thought that there could be even more restrictions and controls placed on them all when there was literally nothing else that could be done to supress them any more than they already were.

 

Runcorn looked down, shifted several pieces of parchment and picked up what was obviously the very proposal that they’d been speaking of. Harry waited patiently as Runcorn found the correct passage.

 

“Ah, here we go.” He said. “I am sure that most members of this body will agree that this proposal is nothing more than belligerent bilge submitted by a bigot who was too afraid to even put their name to their own proposal.” Runcorn said before clearing his throat and reading from the parchment. “…the suggestion for the control of these half breed animals is sterilisation to prevent breeding more of their kind, then confinement or imprisonment for the safety of others or, if accused of any crime, immediate, unhesitant execution with no need for a hearing or trial.” 

 

Harry was so shocked that he was sure that his mouth was gaping open. He thought to Remus, imprisoned merely for being a werewolf having done absolutely nothing wrong and his fist clenched tight. Headache or not, he would debate this until his dying breath if he needed to. It would not pass.

 

“I took the liberty of copying this proposal so that you might all look at it in full detail.” Runcorn informed them as he pulled out a folder from the piles across the straight edge of the table, where he had the whole side to himself, and with a wave of his wand, he sent the sheets of parchment flying out to each member at the table.

When Harry received his, he started reading it with mounting horror and disgust. The proposal included all humanoid magical creatures, as apparently werewolves and vampires were no longer to be classed as human beings worthy of emotions or compassion it seemed, but it also suggested stricter control over those born as magical creatures too, which included veela, faeries and drackens.

The level of sheer hate and disgust of the proposal was almost palpable and Harry had read enough. He sat forward, his shoulders thrown back as he puffed up his chest and he mentally prepared himself to spend all day debating this if he had to. He was not, while he lived and breathed, going to allow this proposal to pass, and if it did somehow pass then he would appeal it and appeal it until everyone came around to his way of thinking, or at the very least got so sick of him bringing it up that they agreed to revoke it just to shut him up, but he didn’t care. He would not allow this vile proposal to come into law.

 

“This body recognises the eagerness that our youngest member has to get this debate started, so we will open this debate with Lord Potter-Black.” Runcorn said with a smile at him. Harry could almost see the pride that this man had in him, it was the same with some of the other members too, a lot of them had gained a marked respect for him after he’d successfully put Dennis Jute in Azkaban.

 

“I agree with our Chief Warlock that this proposal is nothing more than a bigot trying to spitefully ruin the lives of others whom they feel is inferior to themselves, merely because of additional creature blood.” Harry started off calmly and concisely, not letting his anger rush or muddle his words. “The laws surrounding these people are already far too tight and restrictive as it is, but to actually suggest that they are sterilised and imprisoned merely because of their creature status is horrendously unjust. That anyone would even think of executing others without a trial or even a cursory hearing has, I admit, deeply shocked me. In what sort of world do we live where there are those who believe that this sort of discrimination against living, breathing people is acceptable? Where these proposals can actually be considered being made into law through fear, hatred or disgust? I dislike frogs, perhaps I should put in a proposal about them all being rounded up and killed off under a new law, merely because I dislike them.”

 

“It is not the same thing!” Someone answered. “These creatures are dangerous beings, we are not talking of frogs, but of werewolves and drackens, creatures that are breeding others like them, their numbers are growing in recent decades, they are killing more humans, they need controlling!”

 

There were quiet murmurs of agreement from some and Harry had to hold a powerful wave of hot anger back to keep from screaming at the sheer stupidity and utter cruelty of these people who were actually in a position to have this proposal passed into an actual, enforceable law.

 

“You are speaking of them as if they aren’t people.” Harry pointed out. “As if they have no thoughts or feelings.”

 

Someone scoffed at that and Harry narrowed his eyes on the one person he was hoping to avoid, lest he give something away in his anger…Lord Philip Nott. The elderly, spiteful swine that was more concerned about gold and prestige than he was about his only child’s happiness.

 

“I suggest that if Lord Nott has something to say, then he should share with the rest of us.” Harry said in a mimicry of graciousness.

 

“I am merely astounded that someone, anyone, can see these beasts as people with thoughts and feelings.” Lord Nott said in a mocking tone. “How can something that can turn into an animal be seen as a person?”

 

“I confess utter surprise at Lord Nott’s thoughts on this matter.” Harry replied immediately. “I believe that I have seen your name on the registered Animagi list, Lord Nott, are you suggesting that you yourself, who can turn into an animal, are not a person?”

 

Xerxes coughed to cover a burst of surprised laughter and Harry heard Lucius chuckle quietly beside him. Lord Nott went a brilliant shade of red.

 

“How dare you suggest as such!”

 

“I did not suggest as such, you did, Lord Nott.” Harry pointed out innocently.

 

This time Xerxes’ laughter was a little more defined under his cough and Harry had to work hard not to let his lips twitch.

 

“It is entirely not the same thing!” The elderly man spat. “I have gained a higher control of magic in order to become an Animagus, it is a learned skill. I do not turn into some mindless beast because of the phases of the moon or because I was born as such!”

 

“Your exact words, Lord Nott, were ‘how can something that can turn into an animal be seen as a person.’ I would like to point out that you did not define the animal or person type nor did you exclude Animagi from your broad statement.”

 

“Becoming an Animagus is a learned form of magic! It is not a curse brought on by a bite or tainted blood!” Lord Nott roared. “It is not the same thing.”

 

Harry inclined his head before turning back to face more centrally.

 

“As I was saying, these people have thoughts and feelings. They are living, breathing people and to treat them otherwise is a disgusting condemnation of typical stereotypes that we, as a whole, should be more intelligent to realise are completely false.”

 

“They have the tools to infect or kill anyone they please!” Someone else said, slamming their palms onto the table top.

 

“So do I.” Harry replied calmly. “I could leave this room, go to the Atrium of this building and kill anyone and everyone in it, if I so chose. As could each and every one of you in this room, if you so choose. Perhaps these proposed laws should apply to everyone. Perhaps we should all be locked up and confined because we have the tools to kill whomever we please. Perhaps we should all be put up for execution with no hearing or trial or even a chance to defend ourselves and our actions merely because we have the potential to do harm to others.”

 

“That isn’t the same thing!”

 

“Oh, is it not?” Harry replied, a hint of anger to his tone seeping in. “Forgive me, but I see it as exactly the same thing, how is it not?”

 

“I believe, my son, that the difference is the choice that is to be made.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry turned to look at him curiously.

 

“If you went out into the Atrium and killed all within it, that is your choice to make. A werewolf for example, who is not under the effects of the wolfsbane potion, will completely lose their minds during a full moon and has no choice but to follow the instincts of their animal side. A vampire who has not fed can turn crazed with bloodlust and kill the person they are feeding upon in their starved desperation.”

 

“I see your point, Father.” Harry conceded. “But there is also the fact that many werewolves lock themselves up on the night of the full moon or remove themselves from civilisation to prevent such attacks. As for the vampires, all that example proves is that our regulations in dealing with them don’t work and we need to be more open minded in the way that vampires are dealt with and how their need for blood is addressed. My point was that why should they be punished for something that they have not done just because they have the potential to do it. I have the potential to go to the Atrium and kill others, as does everyone sat at this table, should I be punished for the potential to do something even though I have not actually done so?”

 

“I agree with your point.” Lucius replied. “I was merely assisting your understanding of the aforementioned hypothetical situation.”

 

Harry nodded his head and once again sat centrally and looked out at the other members of the Wizengamot.

 

“We are not at liberty to strike at others preemptively merely because they have magical creature blood, such discriminatory behaviour should not be tolerated in society and such stereotypes have no place in our world.”

 

“It’s not a stereotype if it’s true!”

 

“It is not true that all magical creatures act in the same way, nor is it true that they all think the same way or believe in the same things. They are people just like us and just like us, they all differ in their thoughts and beliefs.” Harry replied sternly. “No two living creatures, including people, are the same or act in the same manner and to think otherwise is to be purposefully ignorant of basic living behaviours and ignorance is not a basis for an argument to be put forward in agreement with this proposal.”

 

“Very well said, Lord Potter-Black.” Runcorn nodded. “Would anyone else like to join this discussion either for the proposal or opposing it?”

 

“My argument is for the proposal.” A woman spoke up. “We need to think of the children when considering this proposal as a law. They are our greatest gift and they are without the means to defend themselves.”

 

“And how, Madam, do you think this proposal will help the children?” Harry asked mildly.

 

“By locking those monsters up before they can harm our children!” She replied.

 

“You believe this to be the best possible way to defend the children of this world? To lock up innocent men and women who have not done anything wrong?” He asked, making sure his stunned surprise could be heard clearly in his voice. “What of the other dangers to children? Should we ban Quidditch in case they get hurt? Should we remove Transfiguration from the curriculum in case a stray spell hits them? Should we never teach them to Apparate in case they are splinched? Perhaps you are suggesting that the children are wrapped up in cotton wool and never allowed outside again?”

 

“I am merely asking...no, _begging_ that this body thinks of the defenceless children when voting on this proposal. Even if they can be hurt in other ways, this is something that we can do to prevent at least one danger from being able to harm them.”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes as he met his match in the meeting. There was no way that he was going to give up, however. Not ever.

 

“We cannot blame all of them for the heinous actions of a few.” He said angrily. “There are risks around every corner that threaten everyone, not just children or innocent bystanders. If we start to travel down this road, where will it end? If we vote to write this proposal into law and we round up all the magical creatures, tag and sterilise them and then throw them into prisons, what next under the vague, blanket excuse of ‘oh but the children?’ Attacks on children by magical creatures is rare, it is not an excuse to stir up fears over child safety just to pass this vile proposal into law, Madam.”

 

“Perhaps Lord Potter-Black is saying that he does not care about children?” Lord Nott cut in.

 

Harry so badly wanted to scream at him that he didn’t even care about his own child, let alone others, but he couldn’t spoil Theo’s surprise. It was Theo’s revenge to take, not his, no matter how badly he wanted to shout it from the heavens so that everyone knew that this vile, cruel, heartless man had threatened to disown his own son if he didn’t marry the tramp of house Greengrass for her, rather considerable, dowry.

 

“He is saying that attacks on children by magical creatures are rare, of which they are.” Dawson Shacklebolt said. “Not that he doesn’t care about children, as I’m sure that he does, as do we all.”

 

Harry inclined his head in agreement. “I do care, of course, but accidents happen.” He insisted. “It is unavoidable that…

 

“They are not accidents or unavoidable if we can do something about it now, to save the future children of such horrors!”

 

“Condemning hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people to imprisonment after suffering through forced sterilisation is not an answer!” Harry said sternly. “What if such things were reversed and magical creatures were the majority and they voted on our lives as coldly and callously as you are doing now. How would you feel if you were rounded up just for being human, forcibly sterilised so that you couldn’t ‘ _breed_ ’ and then imprisoned having done absolutely nothing wrong in your entire life?” Harry demanded, using his fingers to quote the vile use of the word breed in such a context. “They have the potential to do harm, as does absolutely everyone in this world, that doesn’t mean that anyone should be punished for it before they’ve done anything wrong. It is different if they are planning to do something and are caught in the act, but if they are neither planning to do as such, nor would ever do as such, how can they possibly be punished for it? They haven’t done anything wrong!”

 

“Have you never heard of Fenrir Greyback?” The woman demanded. “How he specifically targets children? How he goes out of his way to harm others? How he relishes in killing and maiming? He is…”

 

“He is one man.” Harry cut in firmly. “You cannot hold others accountable for his actions or behaviours! It is not for us to imprison all magical creatures because of him, it is for the inept Aurors of this Ministry to catch him, and him alone, to hold him accountable for his own actions!”

 

“They’re all as bad as…”

 

“I sincerely hope, _Madam_ , that you are not ridiculous enough to try and tell this body that one person dictates the actions of all the others.” Harry cut in furiously. “They are not all the same, just as we are clearly not the same. I refuse to be lumped into the same category as the criminals rotting in Azkaban just because they’re the same species as I am! It is the same principle here and I will not allow children to be used as an excuse, nor the atrocious claim that ‘they’re all as bad as one another’ falsely insinuating that every one of them is the same as the very few who have attacked or done harm to others.”

 

Everything was silent within the meeting room, the silence stretched on and then Runcorn cleared his throat.

 

“If no one has anything to add?” He waited several more moments before nodding. “Then let us vote on this matter. Raise your wands if you are in favour of this proposal to be made into law.”

 

Harry looked around as calmly as he could while his heart was hammering in his chest, trying to come across as confident and not at all worried or anxious about the voting. It was too close to call, so many people had actually voted for this proposal to go through into law, many more than he’d been expecting. He took an extra deep breath to control himself. If this law passed he would not make a spectacle of himself, instead he would remain calm and dignified and he would legally appeal it.

 

“All those opposed to making this proposal into law.” Runcorn asked them.

 

Harry calmly reached for his wand, drew it out and thrust it unhurriedly into the air.

 

“All those without an opinion or cannot decide.” Runcorn called out, once he realised that the votes did not add up to the amount of people in the room. Sure enough three wands were raised into the air and he added them to his parchment. “This proposal has been denied twenty-nine to twenty-one, with three abstaining from voting in this matter.”

 

Runcorn picked up a stick of black wax, stuck it over a candle beside him and let three globs of the black wax fall onto the bottom of the proposal before he selected one of a dozen brass stamps in a holder in front of him and he held it down into the wax. He put the proposal into a tray and left it there before putting back the stamp and the stick of black wax.

 

“Onto our second call of business for the day.” He carried on easily. “There is an allegation of theft from Gringotts. The goblins caught the wizard trying to break into a vault that was not his own, but belonged to his Wife, who refused him access to her vault. The wizard in question has invoked human law in this matter, and thus it is referred to us instead of having the goblins handle such matters. We shall now debate on the course of action to take.”

 

“It was his Wife’s vault. Surely he should have been able to have access to it. This matter shouldn’t even be brought before us.” Lord Parkinson suggested.

 

Harry wondered then if nearly everyone around him was a complete dullard or if it was because he was the only one who saw everyone, no matter their gender or species, as equal.

 

“Are you truly going to be so sexist as to suggest that just because a woman has married that her property immediately defaults to her Husband?” Dawson Shacklebolt asked tersely.

 

“I am saying that her Husband should have had access to her vault. They are a married couple. I suppose that she has access to his vault, why should he not have access to hers?”

 

“You don’t know that she has access to his vault.” Dawson pointed out. “Only that she has barred him from her vault and he then tried to break into it.”

 

“They are married! He should have access to his Wife’s vault!” Someone called out, backing up Lord Parkinson.

 

“What century are you living in?” One of the Muggleborn Heads of Department called out. “Are we going backwards here? Are we slipping away from gender equality?”

 

“It is not a question of gender equality, they are a married couple!”

 

“Perhaps they are separating and she was putting aside provisions for herself.” Harry suggested mildly. “Either way, there is no question here, she had her own bank vault for whatever reasons that are absolutely her own and her Husband was trying to break into it, knowing that he didn’t have access. This is a problem for the goblins to sort out, not for this body.”

 

There were gasps as if he had suggested that dragons were as harmless as baby rabbits.

 

“The punishment for trying to enter a vault that you do not own is death in the goblin nation, Harry.” Lucius told him gently. “They take such things very seriously.”

 

“Perhaps this wizard should have thought of such things before he tried to break into someone else’s bank vault.” Harry said simply. “The goblins own the bank, everyone knows that you never try to steal from Gringotts because of the repercussions of it, there is a warning carved into the very doors of the bank that all can see and read before they even enter the main hall of the bank. The way I see things is that the goblins own the bank, it is theirs to defend in any way that they see fit, this wizard should fall to them for his punishment, whatever that might be.”

 

“We are not handing a wizard over to the goblins to execute!” One member shouted out, as if the louder he shouted the more he could sway others to his way of thinking.

 

“No? Why not?” Harry asked. “He has committed a crime against the goblins by going into their bank and trying to steal from them. It is their reputation that he has threatened, their very livelihoods. When you walk into Gringotts, you are subject to goblin law, as such, it seems to me that they didn’t even have to inform the Ministry of their intent to punish him. It is their right to do so.”

 

“That law is outdated and should be removed from use.”

 

Harry looked up and locked eyes with Bill. This was the first time that he had spoken, having chosen to merely watch the previous debate, though he had voted with Harry on opposing the proposal for a change in the magical creature laws.

 

“Oh? What do the goblins think about the removal of this law? It is their law, after all, having been one of the founding laws that the goblin, Gringott, was most insistent upon when the bank was first built in the fourteen hundreds. It was one of the _accepted_ stipulations when the magical population decided to use it as their own bank in the first place. I do not think that the goblins would be overly happy to hear that one of their founding laws is being debated in this manner without a representative present.” Harry pointed out simply.

 

“The goblins never enforce the law.” Bill argued. “As with this case it is always referred back to wizarding laws.”

 

“How often do people try to break into a Gringotts vault?” Harry asked.

 

“Not often, but…”

 

“When was the last known case?” Harry interrupted.

 

“Back in nineteen-ninety-one.” Bill said immediately. “The person was unsuccessful…”

 

“I believe that that culprit was never caught either.” Harry smiled sweetly, knowing that it had been Quirrell acting on the orders of Voldemort who had tried to get the Philosopher’s Stone, having failed because Hagrid had picked it up just hours before on the very same day.

 

“No, the culprit got away.”

 

“What do you think the goblins would have done if they had apprehended the culprit? Do you think it would have been exactly the same as this case? I do. If that culprit had been caught then exactly the same would have happened and I fully believe that the goblins, as the owners of the bank, should be able to enforce their own laws in their own bank as the founding laws, that still stand legal to this day, have stated for the last five hundred years!”

 

“That is an actual law?” One woman, a Department Head, asked in shock.

 

Harry nodded his head. “It is a legitimate law and we are here to uphold the law in the fullest, not to pick and choose which ones we follow.”

 

“Could you point out this law to me, Lord Potter-Black?” Runcorn asked. “If it is an actual law as you have stated, then this matter is indeed out of our hands.”

 

Harry smiled at the Chief Warlock. “Certainly. It is…”

 

“You cannot be serious! A wizard given over to be executed by the _goblins_! It is outrageous!”   

 

“Yet it is the law.” Harry pointed out. “We are here to uphold all of the laws, not to pick and choose which ones to follow, and the laws of this matter are defaulted back to the goblins. Chief Warlock Runcorn, the laws on this matter are set in the founding partnership of Gringotts bank and the Ministry of Magic when the goblins agreed to accept human clients for the first time. I am sure if you sent for the information from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that you will find that I am correct in this matter.”

 

“We will be taking a small, five minute break ladies and gentlemen.” Runcorn told them before pulling a piece of purple memo paper towards him and writing a quick letter upon it before tapping it with his wand where it folded itself into a plane before zooming out of the room.

 

“How did you hear of such a law?” Xerxes asked him as two dozen little hissed conversations started up around them.

 

“You know, I only read about it the other week in a library book. I was looking up information on the Wizengamot, for that issue that I wrote to you about, over the Council of Magical Law thinking that they were above this body. I came across a book of old laws and I thought that it was rather interesting, not to mention informative to read about which laws are still legal to uphold, so I read a large portion of it. What a funny coincidence.”

 

“You are so ruthless, I adore you.” Xerxes told him.

 

Harry laughed happily and shook his head. “It’s not really anything to do with ruthlessness, I just don’t want anyone to get off with such crimes when there are already laws in place to deal with these issues. It isn’t our jurisdiction to deal with this, it is the goblins’ bank, it is up to them to deal with such things. It’s just like if someone breaks into my home, I am well within my rights to deal with them myself before calling in the Law Enforcers, why should the goblins have any less of a right to take care of anyone who foolishly tries to break into one of their vaults?”

 

“You are going to become very popular with the goblins, I believe.” Lucius said.

 

“I’m not doing this to get in with anyone, it’s the right thing to do.” He insisted before changing the subject. “What is the time, please?”

 

“It is a quarter to eleven, Harry, why do you ask?” Lucius asked him after he’d slid his pocket watch from his top robe pocket to quickly check the time for him.

 

“I’m just checking that I have ample time before I have to take my next potion.” He insisted. “I’m so used to taking them that I’m always hyperaware of the time. Being here I’m not too sure that it’s polite to cast a tempus charm in the middle of a meeting. I don’t like not knowing what time it is, just in case I miss a potion.”

 

“You have enough time, I won’t allow you to miss a dose.” Lucius insisted.

 

“So much for this being just a meet and greet with no debates though.” He chuckled tiredly as he subtly rubbed his throbbing head.

 

“I forgot that you would have a headache, you’ve done so well today that I almost believed that there was nothing wrong with you.” Xerxes told him looking worried.

 

“No, it’s still pounding away at both temples, it is really difficult to ignore it too. I’m getting through this by sheer force of stubborn will.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing that you have plenty of stubbornness to spare.”

 

Harry chuckled. “Indeed. Unfortunately this is going to knock me back for today at least. It’s a good thing that I told Aceline to be ready for cuddling, I’m going to need it.” Harry said pointedly.

 

“She will take care of you, I’m sure.” Xerxes said knowingly.

 

Harry grinned. “She better, she has a lot of making up to do.”

 

Harry looked down at his engagement ring and he sighed happily, lifting it to his mouth and kissing it gently.

 

The meeting was unofficially called back to order after another purple memo plane came zooming in to Runcorn, who snatched it from the air, unfolded it and read what was inside. Harry saw the small, hint of a smile before it was gone and Runcorn cleared his throat and sat up straighter.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I can call you back to order.” Runcorn called out clearly, as if everyone in the room wasn’t already deadly silent and staring at him, waiting for the answer. “Our meeting shall now resume, at five to eleven in the morning on Wednesday the twenty-sixth of March.” He said more ceremonially rather than reminding those in the room what day it was. All meetings were recorded on paper after all and it was the Chief Warlock’s job to make sure that all meeting papers were clearly set out for quick review if needed at a later date.

 

Runcorn kept them in suspense after that, as he wrote something down meticulously on a piece of parchment. Several people shifted anxiously, but Harry remained calm and relaxed. He knew that he had the right of things, he knew and understood what he’d read. As such he didn’t shift or fidget like a worried, nervous child. Instead he sat straight and strong, a blank smile on his face as he put his hands in his lap.

 

“The Head of the law division in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, has written me back and he has informed me that Lord Potter-Black’s information is indeed correct.”

 

There was an outcry from several people around the table, but Harry sat calmly and stoically, the small, blank smile still on his face.

 

“It is still written into law that all matters of Gringotts business, including dealing with trespassers and thieves, defaults to the goblins.” Runcorn called out. “We are here to uphold the law as it is written! Not in the way that we choose to interpret it.”

 

“That law hasn’t been enforced in the last hundred years!” Bill called out desperately.

 

“Only because this is the first treacherous person to be caught in that time.” Harry said calmly. “Not very many are stupid enough to try and break into a vault at Gringotts. The last one to be caught was in eighteen-ninety-two. Since then no one has been brainless enough to try, except for the culprit who got away in nineteen-ninety-one. This is the first case since then and that law is still perfectly legitimate and thus it is enforceable. It is our job to uphold it lest we offend the goblin nation and be the cause of the first goblin rebellion since the nineteenth century! I for one will not be responsible for such, this is a case for the goblins to sort out as they see fit! Based on the written law they didn’t even need to inform us that they had arrested this trespasser, they did that out of courtesy, likely not expecting this whole railroad where the wizards try to take over their business, going back on their own laws.”

 

“That is a breach of law that will be fully investigated.” Runcorn insisted. “Now that this law has been uncovered and unburied from the depths that had been taken to hide it, it will be enforced as it is a legitimate law. This case is now being referred back to the goblins, who are within their legal rights to do with their prisoner as they see fit.”

 

“You cannot be serious!” Someone yelled out. “He is a wizard of this country! We can’t just turn him over to be executed by such filthy beasts!”

 

“The goblins will also be receiving a copy of this body’s discussion for context, I do hope that you didn’t have much in your vault that you wanted to keep.” Runcorn said blandly.  

 

Harry almost laughed, instead he cleared his throat and wiggled around a little bit as he tried to hold back his laughter.

 

“This concludes our meeting for this morning. All discussions have been carried out and voted upon. Please keep your rings upon your fingers at all times to hear of the next meeting. Barring an emergency, I will be seeing you all at the small get together in the next month. Good day to you all.”

 

Runcorn officially ended the meeting and Harry stayed sat for a moment, before he stood and rolled his aching shoulders, glad that the meeting had finally ended. He’d forgotten about the Wizengamot party next month, Rabastan had promised to buy him some new dress robes to go to that, as he’d had to wear two sets to his family’s New Year’s party after Rowle had ruined one of them by ripping them open to try and rape him in his own bathroom. He wondered if Rabastan had remembered that or if Harry would have to gently remind him.

Lucius and Xerxes flanked him on the way out, as it seemed that everyone and his dog wanted to speak to him, or rather confront and shout at him, he even saw some fingering their wands as if they wanted to curse him. Of course such a thing would have caused a massive family feud between Harry and his own family, including the Lestranges as his married family, and the idiot who had decided to curse him and their family.

 

“How is your headache?” Lucius asked him.

 

“It’s getting worse.” He admitted. “I can’t wait to get home and lie down.”

 

“Several more minutes and you’ll be back home. I’m very proud of you.”

 

Harry smiled and he ignored everyone else as he focused only on getting home. He couldn’t wait to put his head in Rabastan’s lap and have those lovely, strong fingers massaging his skull.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Bill made his way to Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts as he mulled over everything that had happened in the last few hours. It had not been what he’d been expecting. From the books that he’d read he’d been expecting arrogant, old men throwing out words that hadn’t been used in conversations for a hundred years and a lot more stuffiness. He hadn’t expected the level of opinionated fervour during the debates that had been hot with passionate anger and argument.

He made it to the stone gargoyle that covered the entrance to Dumbledore’s office and he spoke the password that he’d been given, waiting for the gargoyle to leap aside before climbing the stairs to the office above. He knocked on the door and waited to be told to enter before doing so.

 

“Ah, Bill. What can I do for you? Was there something you found in one of the books that you need assistance with?”

 

“No, Sir. A meeting was called this morning.”

 

“So soon? Well, no matter. Come, take a seat.”

 

Bill did as he had been told and took one of the chairs on the other side of Dumbledore’s desk and he shook his head.

 

“I don’t know how to explain just how… _wrong_ everything went in such a short space of time.”

 

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked softly.

 

“It was like Harry’s own personal show.” Bill explained with a soft shake of the head. “He wasn’t following Malfoy’s direction at all, Harry was the first to speak and Malfoy barely spoke at all during the debates.”

 

“What was the issue raised?” Dumbledore asked in alarm.

 

“Tightening the creature laws even further, to the point where all known magical creatures would be imprisoned and sterilised to prevent them from having children, if they were criminals, even small, petty offences, then they’d be executed without a trial or even a hearing.”

 

“What did Harry say about the matter?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

 

“He was dead set against it. He made such a compelling argument, all on his own, that he swayed many of those into voting with him, opposing the new legislation. It failed to pass by a mere margin and I’m sure that it was only because of Harry’s input that it didn’t actually pass.”

 

“I admit myself surprised that Lucius didn’t step in and stop Harry from doing as such.”

 

Bill shook his head. “No, he looked _proud_ of what Harry was doing and saying. He just sat by his side and smiled at him smugly as Harry spoke and argued with the other members of the Wizengamot. He voted with Harry to oppose the laws. Harry really did have a way of making people feel stupid for voicing their own opinions and because of that, no one wanted to argue the point for the legislation to be passed. I could see the minds of some of the silent observers changing more and more as Harry spoke in favour of rejecting the proposal and then again when he put aside everyone else’s arguments so easily.”

 

“Would you share these memories with me, so that I might look at them in finer detail?”

 

Bill nodded his head and then, as Dumbledore’s wand tip came to his temple, Bill thought of the Wizengamot meeting and everything that had happened that morning. A silvery strand came free from his temple and it was caught in a glass vial as Dumbledore extracted the memory.

 

“Harry successfully talked a wizard into a goblin execution.” Bill warned.

 

Dumbledore looked up at him sharply. “How was he able to manage such a thing?”

 

“A wizard tried to break into a vault owned by his Wife. I have no idea how Harry knew of such a law, as it was one of the outdated laws that you asked me to remove, but he convinced the Wizengamot that such affairs were for the goblins to handle, even Malfoy looked surprised at hearing that. None of them knew of such a law, but Harry did somehow know of it and he played his part to perfection, insisting that there was nothing that the Wizengamot could do, that it was still a legitimate law, that if we denied such a thing then it could spark off a goblin rebellion. As soon as Runcorn heard that it was an actual law, he wrote a memo to the Department of Law Enforcement and after hearing back from them that it was a legitimate law, he swept it completely from the books and agreed with Harry that it was an affair for the goblins to sort out in any way that they saw fit. There wasn’t even a vote for it.”

 

“I admit that I am very concerned about the way that Harry is acting. To condemn people to such overinflated sentences to Azkaban and now to condemn someone to death, his behaviour is out of control, yet no one is raising any eyebrows at it. You would think that he had always acted in such a cruel, unforgiving manner for all the notice that he’s getting.”

 

Bill could well understand Dumbledore’s point. He still remembered the shy, sweet little boy who had come with them to the Quidditch World Cup. To compare the two, the boy that he’d met at the Quidditch World Cup to the boy that he’d seen just now in the Wizengamot meeting room, they were like night and day, two very different people and it seemed that no one even noticed, or more accurately, they just didn’t care, but they needed to. Because if Dumbledore was right, and he always was, then Harry was the only one who could defeat you-know-who. If they didn’t have Harry, then they had no hope and they would be fighting for nothing, they’d just be throwing away their lives with no hope of ever winning the coming war.

Lupin was insistent on not forcing Harry to fight, because though Harry apparently still wanted you-know-who defeated, he didn’t want to get his soft, clean hands dirty. But Dumbledore was insistent that Harry had to be the one to fight, that he was the only one able to finally defeat you-know-who for good, but the selfish little shit that Harry had become was refusing to have any part of the coming war, insisting that he didn’t want to fight and denying the prophecy all together. It was utterly maddening.

The only way that they could truly be safe from you-know-who was to destroy him once and for all, yet the only person who could so as such was Harry, who was now being an utter pillock and refusing to do anything. Bill wanted to shake the sense back into him, or Malfoy’s influence out, either way he just wanted to grab hold of Harry and shake the little bastard for everything that he’d done and had put them through and was still putting them through. Enough was enough and if he was condemning people to Azkaban and now even to death just to impress the Malfoys then Bill wanted to punch him right in the face for ruining other’s lives just to try and impress his disgusting adoptive family in such a sick, sinister way. It just wasn’t right and Bill had no idea how Harry was even getting away with it, none of them within the Order knew, but now that he was sitting on the Wizengamot, hopefully he’d be able to work out what Harry was doing and how they could put a stop to it. It couldn’t be allowed to continue.

 

“What do we need to do?” He asked Dumbledore, firming himself and his resolve.

 

“There is nothing that we can do except to inform the others of what has transpired today and then leak it out to the general population, subtly so that it cannot be brought back onto you, and hope that a public outcry will cow Harry somewhat from these cruel intentions. I will review this memory now and I will call you back to discuss my findings at a later date, thank you for arriving so promptly, it could save that poor man his life.”

 

Bill nodded and he took the dismissal as he stood and went back down the spiral stairway. He had much more work to be done and he had to somehow go in to face the goblins over his lateness into work, knowing now that they held a wizard prisoner and would be legally executing him at their discretion.

Everything was just so wrong and there was nothing that anyone could do to fix it as Harry continued to prove himself as a constant thorn in their sides, twinging and making himself known in the worst of ways at every turn. He needed to be stopped, the sooner the better.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was very blissed out and incredibly happy as he laid with his head in Rabastan’s lap, enjoying the feeling of having someone’s fingers stroked slowly and rhythmically through his hair, the nails lightly scratching his scalp in a way that rose pleasurable goosebumps on his arms and made him shiver happily every now and then.

He was very happy and very comfortable right where he was and he didn’t plan on moving for a while yet, and now that he’d had a light lunch and his calcium potion, he didn’t have to move either.

 

“You should have been there!” Xerxes carried on, he was so happy and so proud as he regaled Rabastan and Rodolphus of Harry’s morning in the Wizengamot. Harry barely had to open his mouth between the adulation of Xerxes and Lucius.

 

“I can’t believe you sentenced someone to death by using the goblins.” Rabastan chuckled, looking down at him and smiling. Harry smiled back sleepily.

 

“I’m afraid it was his own fault.” Harry said drowsily, his eyes now closed. “Everyone, even Muggleborns or those raised by Muggles like I was, know that to steal from the goblins is a ridiculous notion resulting in death. I even asked during my first ever trip to the bank what would happen if anyone touched certain vaults and I was straight up told, as an eleven year old, that the person would be sucked into the vault and trapped inside with no hope of getting out and that such vaults were only checked upon for such trespassers every ten years. There is even a warning carved into the doors to the main hall that everyone entering the bank can see! Why shouldn’t the goblins be able to deal with trespassers and thieves in any way that they deem necessary in their own bank?! If someone tried to break into my vault then I’d absolutely want them killed for it! Do you know how much valuable junk is in the Potter vault, let alone the Black’s?”

 

“I hadn’t thought to ask.” Lucius replied, there was a thoughtful look upon his face. “What _is_ in those two vaults?”

 

“The Potter vault isn’t too bad, it’s mostly money and books, but there are a few heirlooms and things too, the Black vault however, I’m afraid to touch half of it. I’m sure most of it’s cursed.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Xerxes asked him.

 

“I touched a goblet and it gave me a rash that the goblins had to treat before I left the bank. I didn’t touch anything after that.”

 

“If you are agreeable, then perhaps I should come with you the next time, to circumvent any curses harming you.”

 

Harry nodded. “That would be great, some of the stuff in that vault looks so cool, it would be nice to touch some of it without fear that I’m going to lose an arm or have my eyeballs burnt out. I remember half of the crap at the Black house in Grimmauld Place, if they keep that much cursed stuff in their house, then I’m not surprised that their vault is full of it too. There was a music box that when it was opened played a sinister, eerie music, it just made everyone drowsy and sleepy, like we were in a trance, and none of us could move. Thank god Ginny slammed the lid on it, who knows what it would have done if left for any longer.”

 

“You have been to the Black home then?”

 

“Of course, I own it now.” Harry said. “Along with all the Black vaults and estates. Sirius left it all to me in his will.”

 

“You’re a very rich boy.”

 

“I don’t care for such things.” Harry insisted blithely. “Family is much more important to me.”

 

He looked up at Rabastan and smiled.

 

“I _was_ surprised that you voted with me on the creature law proposal however.” He said. “I thought that you were all about controlling the magical creatures.”

 

“There is a difference in controlling them and in imprisoning them all and forgetting about them. How could our Lord do his work if that proposal had passed into law? How could we use Greyback to his full potential if all creatures are locked up or executed on sight? It was not limited to those merely mentioned in the proposal either, it would have included them all, giants, centaurs, merpeople…it is exactly these sorts of proposals that send them fleeing to our Lord.” Xerxes told him. “He gives them the freedom to take their revenge, which often brings about even harsher proposals such as this one.”

 

“Which is exactly my point.” Harry answered. “All of the current creature laws need to be reviewed and rewritten, they’re not working and it’s unfair of anyone to expect these creatures to live by such harsh, vile laws that often prevent them from living a full, happy life or even from being completely safe! I’ll be setting that on my list of things to change too, as soon as I have thought on all possible avenues to take to help them instead of forcing tighter and tighter controls upon them, it’s no wonder that half of them snap and go on killing sprees. If I was subject to the same sort of limitations then I think I would too.”

 

“I cannot wait to see what you come up with.” Xerxes said gleefully.

 

“Remember to cover all loopholes.” Lucius told him firmly. “You need to plan for every eventuality and put down in writing everything that the law should cover and not leave it up for interpretation.”

 

Harry nodded seriously from Rabastan’s lap. “It might take a while, but it needs proper planning and as you said, I need to cover all eventualities. But I will make this right. I will not stand by as they’re all vilified for the actions of a select few. Where is the justice in that?”

 

“There is none.” Rabastan answered.

 

Harry nodded. “Exactly, and that needs to change as soon as I can possibly manage it.”

 

Everyone fell quiet then and Harry relaxed himself back on Rabastan’s lap and just enjoyed having his head massaged. He was going to start on a basic outline for his proposal now, while he had some free time thanks to the Easter break. He would then look into every single law and clause that was currently a legitimate and enforced law and he would set about changing them all for the better.

He was smart enough to see that if you controlled someone to the point of giving them no freewill at all, then of course they would fight and rankle against such tight confines, trying to scrape a better life for themselves and their family only to be knocked down again and again. He thought to Remus, how he couldn’t hold down a job because of what he was, how he was so stressed and aged because of his poor living situation, how he could barely clothe or feed himself. His jaw clenched. He would put an end to it and he would rewrite all of these laws for the betterment of the magical creatures who merely wanted the freedom to live their lives without fear. He would work tirelessly to achieve this, he swore it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> A/N: Happy New Year, lovelies! We now head into 2017 and a new year of writing and reading. I am fully expecting our new fic of the year to be Broken Wings, with any luck it could be posted as early as February/March, though due to the content it will not be for everyone and it is only going to be posted on this site.
> 
> I think that this is all that I needed to do, I hope that you’ve enjoyed this chapter, and Harry absolutely stealing the show in the Wizengamot, so until next time, lovelies,
> 
>    
> StarLight Massacre. X


	19. Easter Inspirations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For Staci, Deinara, Kali, Kalesha and the multitude of March babies that have inundated me with birthday requests, happy birthday to all of you lovelies!
> 
> Last Time
> 
>  
> 
> He was smart enough to see that if you controlled someone to the point of giving them no freewill at all, then of course they would fight and rankle against such tight confines, trying to scrape a better life for themselves and their family only to be knocked down again and again. He thought to Remus, how he couldn’t hold down a job because of what he was, how he was so stressed and aged because of his poor living situation, how he could barely clothe or feed himself. His jaw clenched. He would put an end to it and he would rewrite all of these laws for the betterment of the magical creatures who merely wanted the freedom to live their lives without fear. He would work tirelessly to achieve this, he swore it.

 

Chapter Nineteen – Easter Inspirations

 

Harry woke up on Sunday the thirtieth of March, four days after the Wizengamot meeting, with a grimace at the state he found himself in. He must have sweated out his bodyweight last night, because he was near enough dripping wet.

Peeling himself from his sheets, he gave a disgusted ‘ick’ to himself before heading straight into his en suite to run a much needed bath.

He went back into his bedroom and picked out an outfit for himself, laying it out on his armchair ready, before he went back into the bathroom to sit his arse in the bath, cleaning himself off in the warm water. He must have had a bad night to have woken up in such a state, but today was Easter and he was very much looking forward to the cascade of chocolate that was coming his way after breakfast, so he didn’t let the bad night get him down too much, he was going to get chocolate later after all and that would make up for almost anything.

That thought got him moving a little quicker and he finished up and got out, drying himself off and going to get dressed. He stripped his still slightly damp bedding once he was dressed and he left it on the floor for Pimsey to sort out, she would wash the bedding and then put it back on his bed for him, as per his usual morning routine now. He almost literally ran into Draco as soon as he left his room and the both of them almost jumped in the air in fright.

 

“Dear Merlin, calm down, Potter!” Draco chastised him.

 

“Sorry, I’m excited. I get a shit ton of chocolate today, I can’t help it.”

 

Draco shook his head as they went down to the dining room together. As per usual, they were the last to arrive, Draco because he liked making sure that he was absolutely perfect and pristine every morning, Harry because he needed to take an extra-long bath to scrub all the stale sweat from his body every morning.

 

“Good morning, boys.” Narcissa greeted as they walked into the dining room.

 

“Morning, Mother.” They both echoed.

 

Draco went to sit in his usual seat, Harry went to sit next to Rabastan, kissing him in greeting.

 

“Morning, love.” Harry said with a smile.

 

“How are you feeling?” Rabastan asked him, even as he began making Harry a cup of tea, just how he liked it.

 

“I feel alright today, or at least I do for now.”

 

Rabastan smiled so happily as he handed over the cup and gave him a soft kiss to the cheek. Harry grinned, pleased with the way that things were progressing between them. Marcus had come for another lesson a few days ago and Harry could see the restraint that passed over Rabastan’s face, the tension in his body, as he left the room to give him and Marcus some privacy. Harry had rewarded him heavily with praise and happiness and he had fed Rabastan small berries dipped in natural yoghurt by hand to show his appreciation at the show of trust.

Rabastan had very much liked his reward and it acted as one hell of an incentive for the next time, this was especially good as Marcus was coming for another lesson tomorrow. Harry was fervently hoping that Rabastan could keep up this new considerate behaviour. It made Harry feel able to work on his tutoring and then come back to Rabastan and tell him about it, which was an amazing feeling, to be able to share his lessons and his thoughts with his Fiancé.

Harry drank his tea, nibbled on some toast, ate a banana and then he swallowed the worst of his potions, the bone strengthening potion that gave him a killer headache. The headache kicked in with a painful throb only a minute or so after he’d swallowed it, but Rabastan took his hand and helped him to his feet. He was led to the front parlour and in a new habit that Harry absolutely loved, he was lain down on the settee with his head in Rabastan’s lap and he had his hair stroked and his scalp massaged by strong, sure fingers that only wavered slightly every now and then. But Rabastan was now much more confident and it showed by his willingness to have both hands on Harry’s head when a powerful cramp could have squashed it like a watermelon. Harry couldn’t remember the last time that Rabastan had actually had any sort of cramp though and it was so utterly blissful to have those fingers scratching at his scalp that he didn’t worry about it. He would definitely miss this when he had to go back to Hogwarts.

 

“Oh that feels so good.” He groaned as Rabastan’s nails gently scratched against his scalp, moving down to the back of his neck which made him shiver in pleasure.

 

“Did you write out any more of that change of law proposal that you want me to look over?” Rabastan asked him.

 

“No, I did go back over the part that you already reviewed and took your notes into consideration. I’ve re-written it again and if you’d like, you could go over it again to see what you make of it now.”

 

“Of course I will. I love doing this project with you.” Rabastan insisted as he continued massaging Harry’s head and neck.

 

“I’ve almost finished the next part to the reform too, once I’ve hashed out all of the details, I’ll add it in a coherent manner to the proposal and have you look it over again.”

 

“It sounds like you’re doing really well with it, you only thought of changing these laws a few days ago.” Rabastan said, rather impressed with Harry’s level of passion and his dedication.

 

Harry cracked open his eyes and looked up at his Fiancé. “I just feel really strongly about this.” He said. “I can always focus better on something when I feel strongly about it, that’s why I’m so good at Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

 

“You are very intelligent, Harry.” Rabastan told him seriously. “You never give yourself enough standing in such things, but you are incredibly quick witted and a fast learner.”

 

“Hermione was always much smarter than I was.” Harry insisted.

 

“There you go again, putting yourself down or comparing yourself to others. You said that that Mud… _Muggleborn_ was only book smart anyway. Everything she knows is out of a book, but if you put her on the spot, I bet she wouldn’t have a bloody clue until she’d looked for the answer in a book first. Not like you.”

 

Harry closed his eyes again, after glaring up at Rabastan at the first hint of the word Mudblood. He sighed.

 

“I suppose not. She won’t be told either. If you suggest an alternative to anything that she’s read in a book then she won’t even consider it. She doesn’t seem to grasp that sometimes there can be more than one way to do something right or even that a book might sometimes have misinformation or a newer book could have an updated explanation that expands on a certain theory.”

 

“Exactly! She’s book smart, whereas you’re just smart, period. You understand that not everything you read is correct, you can think on your feet and we’ve yet to meet anyone who can hold themselves in a debate against you.”

 

Harry smiled. “I almost met my match at that meeting, that stupid woman.”

 

“The one who started beseeching the Wizengamot about the poor, defenceless children?” Rabastan chuckled.

 

“Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your life?”

 

“Not recently.” Rabastan answered, continuing with Harry’s head, neck and shoulder massage.

 

They both fell silent. Harry was enjoying the head massage, easing away the headache that he had thanks to the after effects of his potions.

 

“Do you feel better?” Rabastan asked him.

 

Harry nodded. “Much. Thank you.”

 

A kiss to his head and Harry opened his eyes again and smiled up into those dark blue eyes.

 

“I bought you something for Easter, though I’ve been worried that you won’t like it.”

 

“Is it chocolate related?” Harry asked.

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“Then there is absolutely no way that I won’t like it.” Harry grinned. “Where’s my chocolate?”

 

“Are you feeling well enough?”

 

“For chocolate? Are you mad? Of course I’m well enough.” He laughed, sitting himself up and snuggling into Rabastan before giving him a few playful pushes. “Go on! Go get my chocolate!”

 

Rabastan laughed with him. He stood after giving him another kiss and Harry got himself comfortable. He was going to binge on chocolate with Rabastan until at least lunch time. He was going to need tea.

 

“Pimsey.” He called out gently.

 

The little house-elf popped into the room and curtseyed. “What can Pimsey be doing for young Master Harry?” She asked.

 

“Can I get some tea and two cups please, Pimsey?” He asked with a smile.

 

She smiled back at him, her bat like ears pricking up in happiness and she squeaked happily before popping away and coming back in record time with a tray in her hands with a teapot, complete with tea cosy, two china cups, sugar and milk.

 

“Thank you, Pimsey, this is great.” Harry insisted.

 

Squealing again, Pimsey curtseyed and left the room. Harry busied himself with making tea for himself and Rabastan until Rabastan actually came back. When he did come back, he was levitating a collection of boxed eggs behind him. Harry had to laugh, especially as he remembered his talk with Lucius about Rabastan hovering over the eggs like a mother hen.

 

“Talk about going overboard, Rabastan!” He giggled.

 

“I didn’t know which one you’d like the best, so I got a couple, then I was worried that you wouldn’t like either of them, so I…I just got more.” Rabastan said a little uncomfortably. “It never came up in conversation what sort of chocolate you preferred and as it got closer to Easter, it would have seemed too obvious to just ask you outright and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You should have just asked me. We’re still learning about one another, I wouldn’t have cared. Although, I probably would have lamented the loss of all of these.” He laughed as he picked up the first egg that had been lined up on the table and looked at it. It was a plain milk chocolate and he opened the box, carefully took out the large egg and he gave it a hard, forceful downward slam into the coffee table so that it easily broke into two halves.

 

“Why did you do that?!” Rabastan asked him in shock.

 

“So I can eat it!” Harry replied as he took one of the halves and broke a decent sized fistful off of it.

 

“So you smash it against a table?” Rabastan demanded.

 

“You’re going to tell me that there’s a charm for that, aren’t you?” He asked with a grin.

 

“There’s a charm for that, Harry.” Rabastan said, demonstrating by waving his wand and severing a small portion of the chocolate from the other half of the egg.

 

“I like my way better.” Harry grinned as he ate the snapped pieces of chocolate.

 

Rabastan just smiled at him. “They’re your eggs, whatever you want to do with them is fine.”

 

“I’m sharing them…only with you though!” Harry added quickly. “If Rodolphus wants any he can get his own!”

 

Rabastan smiled and ate the small piece he had severed off. He picked up the tea that Harry had poured for him. Rabastan preferred tea leaves, not tea bags like Harry, so it was more difficult to get Rabastan’s preferred taste right.

 

“Did I do it right?” He asked softly, seeking reassurance that he was learning about his Fiancé’s likes and preferences.

 

“You did.” Rabastan told him, sitting back and tugging Harry to rest against him. Harry went willingly, with his chocolate and tea, and he snuggled in happily. “Do you prefer milk or dark chocolate, Harry?”

 

“I like them both.” Harry chuckled. “If I want a massive sugar hit, I’ll go for milk chocolate, maybe one of Honeydukes’ massive buckets of chocolate frogs, though I do share those, but if I just want a snack or something to nibble on, then I’ll go for dark chocolate. I’ll eat that while I’m reading, which seems to be all the time now. I’ve grown to love dark chocolate and orange, though. That is definitely my current favourite combination.” He said, waiting to see what Rabastan would do. His Fiancé did not disappoint him as he surged forward and almost grappled with one of the boxes, presenting him with a very sophisticated, elegantly decorated chocolate orange egg. It even had candied orange slices sunken into the front of it.

 

“I got you a dark chocolate and orange egg!” Rabastan said excitedly.

 

Harry gasped, not entirely falsely either as the egg was a lot more lavish and beautiful than he’d been expecting, but he took it and looked at it in wonder.

 

“How did you know?” He asked. “It’s perfect! See, you did know which egg I’d like the most!”

 

Rabastan smiled and watched as Harry took the egg out of the box and then slammed it into the coffee table, breaking it in half. If Lucius, or even worse Narcissa, had caught him, Rabastan knew that Harry would have been in for a punishment, but he didn’t care personally as long as his love was happy and he seemed to be absolutely overjoyed with his eggs, and with slamming them all into the coffee table like a barbaric Muggle. Harry snapped a chunk off of the broken half of the egg and he jammed it into his mouth, moaning at the taste. The entire egg was infused with orange zest and likely orange oil too, it was amazing.

 

“Is that one your favourite?”

 

“For the moment. I’ll have to try them all to be sure though.” Harry said with a cheeky grin.

 

Rabastan chuckled and cuddled him back into his body, this time half of the orange egg came with them as Harry kept it with him and snapped bits off to nibble on as he drank his tea. He had no worries that the egg would melt in his hand as all of the eggs, having been made by a magical chocolatier, were all charmed to never melt, and thus destroy the creation or change its taste. He could hold it all day and nothing would happen, though he’d been told that the charm would not stand up to very high heat, such as being put in an oven, a microwave, or in boiling water.

 

“Did you need to do any more reading today?” Rabastan asked him.

 

“No, I was going to read that Arithmancy book to you and have you explain to me what the fuck it means because I have no clue.” Harry laughed.

 

Rabastan snorted. “Okay, we can do that once we’ve drunk our tea. Don’t fill up on chocolate though, Harry, you need to get some lunch down you.”

 

Harry nodded, he understood that his rather fragile health needed to be built up not only with the potions, but with good food and nutrition too. He was getting better, he was actually feeling stronger too and when Lucius had sat him down, with Rabastan sat beside him for support, and told him that the Healer had said that his recovery was going very well and that he might be able to cut back on the potions earlier than expected, that he would be off of them earlier than expected, well it had almost made him cry from sheer joy and relief. He was now more determined than ever to see this through, to get healthy and well and off of these damn potions and ensure that he never had to take them ever again. Chocolate wouldn’t help him recover faster, but a good lunch would, he understood that, so he curbed his desire to eat as much chocolate as he could and instead he stopped eating an hour before lunch would be served to leave room enough to eat a good, nutritious lunch that would help him to recover faster. He could always go back to his chocolate afterwards, as long as he ate his dinner too, it wouldn’t matter or even be mentioned. He was determined to get healthy, but he was also determined to eat as much of the chocolate as he could before he went back to Hogwarts, where he would be thrown head first into the deep end with endless homework and exam revision. After all, the exams were in the last week of May, in a little over a month and these exams would dictate if he could carry on his final year of his chosen NEWTs and then finally graduate. He would need to focus his all upon them when they did finally roll around and there would be no room for distraction or procrastination. He _would_ pass all of his exams and make his family proud of him.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Bill Weasley knew that something was wrong as soon as he arrived for his shift at the bank. He had immediately been called to the office of the goblin in charge of the Cursebreakers and told brusquely to take a seat while he waited. He had been sat here for ten minutes now, just left on his own with no clue what was going on.

When his manager had eventually turned up, he looked angry and Bill wondered if this was because he’d missed those few hours last week. He had explained to the deputy manager at the time why he’d been late, but this was the first that he was seeing of his actual manager since then. He refused to believe that it had anything to do with the Wizengamot meeting. Charlie had warned him that there might be repercussions for that, even his Father had mentioned that it might tick off the goblins, but Bill didn’t want to believe it.

 

“Mister Weasley, you have been called here today to discuss your conduct as a representative of this bank.” His manager, Gornuk, told him.

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“You have taken a seat in the Wizengamot. As an employee of this bank, you are a legal representative for Gringotts while in these meetings. We have found you to be lacking as a representative and your conduct to be disgraceful.”

 

“I was only doing as I saw best.” Bill said quietly.

 

“Regardless of what you believe is for the best, our laws are to be fully upheld, by employees most of all.” Gornuk told him fiercely.

 

“The law in question is rarely enforced.”

 

“No, Mister Weasley, the law in question is rarely needed to be enforced.” Gornuk corrected him, echoing what Harry had said last week in the Wizengamot meeting. “Regardless of how often it is used, it is still a law that we here at Gringotts take very seriously. We pride ourselves on being the safest place for anyone to store their gold and valuables, if we allow for anyone to steal from one of our vaults, our reputation will be ruined and we will lose business, thus our very livelihoods will be at stake. You, as an employee of this bank, should be fully aware of such things.”

 

“I am.” Bill insisted. “I just believe that putting those potential thieves to death is too harsh. A fine, confiscating their vaults or even imprisonment, but not automatic death. I feel that the law should be updated and that straight up execution for potential theft be removed from the law.”

 

“This law has worked well as a full out deterrent since it was instated as a law, right back at the very beginning of our nation taking wizards as clients, Mister Weasley. If we allow this one thief to get away with trying to rob from our vaults, how do you think that that will be seen by the general population? How long will it take for someone else to try under this new, lax law of mere fines and imprisonment? We will not stand for such. Gringotts will not be changing its laws to suit the wizards, we will keep the laws, as agreed upon the founding of this bank, as they are.”

 

There was nothing that Bill could say to that, so he said nothing. The goblins were stubborn, but they couldn’t afford to lose the custom of the wizards, he knew that they couldn’t, so if the Ministry went ahead and changed the laws, the goblins would eventually have to settle for it.

 

“Our motto here at Gringotts is what, Mister Weasley?” Gornuk demanded suddenly.

 

“Fortius Quo Fidelius.” Bill replied immediately.

 

“Fortius Quo Fidelius.” Gornuk nodded in agreement. “Strength through Loyalty. You seem to have forgotten that when you started your career here that you swore to that motto, that you swore that you would show the bank who employed you your loyalty.”

 

“Am I being fired?” Bill asked, his heart jumping into his throat.

 

“No.” Gornuk told him. “You are being suspended, pending further inquiry, effective immediately. We will contact you when you are required.”

 

Bill was numb as he was dismissed after so brief a meeting and he walked on automatic out of the office and then out of the bank. He went to the Leaky Cauldron instead of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. The twins would be busy anyway. He flooed back home and interrupted what looked to be a heated argument between his Mother and Charlie.

 

“What are you doing back?” Charlie asked him immediately, seizing any change of conversation that he could.

 

Bill did not relish telling any of them that he had just been suspended from his job, he sunk into a chair and he grit his teeth, preparing himself to just come out and say it.

 

“I’ve been suspended.”

 

“What for?” Charlie asked, his blue eyes going wide.

 

Bill sighed. “For disloyalty to the goblins during the Wizengamot meeting.”

 

“Because you did not condemn that poor man to death?” His Mother demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously.

 

Bill nodded miserably. “I’m so sorry, Mum. I won’t be able to contribute as much as I would like now, I never meant for this to happen.”

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Molly Weasley insisted firmly. “We’ll manage, we always have, what is important here is that you have stuck to the values that you were taught. I would rather be saddled with this debt for the rest of my days than to hear that my own son had allowed anyone to be executed for whatever reason. You did the right thing, Bill and that is what is important to me and your Father.”

 

Bill felt slightly better about that, but he was very thankful that he was on the Wizengamot now, that he had that large monthly stipend to fall back on, because he knew that he was not going to be paid for this period of suspension, thus he would have no wage coming in for however long the goblins left him to stew before calling him in for his next meeting, where he would possibly be fired, though he took the fact that he wasn’t immediately fired as a small comfort. He was once again thankful that the stipend was a rather considerable sum, especially considering that most of the time he wasn’t actually doing anything. A meeting was called every other month, if that, yet he was still paid monthly regardless.

 

“What are you going to do?” Charlie asked him.

 

“There’s nothing I can do at the moment. I have to wait for the goblins to decide what they want to do and then call me back to the bank to tell me if I still have a job or not.”

 

“That’s rubbish.” Charlie sighed.

 

Bill nodded. “At least I can catch up on that never ending reading list that I have for the Wizengamot. It’s not like I’ll have anything else to do while suspended from work.”

 

“At least you got in all of that overtime while you could, that will help.” Charlie tried to provide a silver lining.

 

Bill nodded. Charlie was right, he had accumulated a lot of overtime in the last month and a half, that would go a long way, especially when paired with his Wizengamot stipend, he was just worried about after that, when he went a month or two with just the stipend and no wages. That was going to be the hardest time, he just hoped that they all got through it alright and that his parents didn’t make themselves sick through worry, stress, overwork or through missing meals like he suspected of them. At least Ron and Ginny were in Hogwarts and could eat three times a day without worry, at least until Hogwarts term time ended that was. The summer was going to be harder still on them all, but as his Mother had said, they would manage, they would have to as they had no other choice.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry kissed Rabastan and squeezed his hand when it looked like he was warring with himself.

 

“It’ll be alright, I’ll see you in a few hours.” Harry said softly, pointedly.

 

Rabastan took a deep breath, let it out and then kissed him again, gently.

 

“I’ll see you in a while.” He answered before turning and leaving the room.

 

Harry turned to Marcus and smiled, hearing the door behind him close quietly. He went to the coffee table and sat on the floor.

 

“Shall we get started?” He questioned.

 

“First, is it true that you sentenced a man to execution via the goblins?” Marcus asked him.

 

“How did you even know about that?” Harry questioned seriously. “It was in a Wizengamot meeting, no one should know about…Draco told you, didn’t he?”

 

“No, there are little rumours running rife around the Ministry, everyone has a different story or a different reason to tell of, but that one thing stays certain.” Marcus told him. “So it _is_ true, you did get a man executed by using the goblins.”

 

“It was his own fault for trying to rob one of their bank vaults!” He insisted hotly.

 

Marcus laughed happily. “I can’t believe it. Has he been executed yet?”

 

“No. Not yet. There will be a trial, of course, with representatives from the Ministry present, but yes, he will be legally executed by the goblins. I can’t believe that that information got out somehow!” Harry knew exactly how it had gotten out too, the only problem was he had absolutely no proof of his claims and Veritaserum could only be used in exceptional cases. He hated that law too. A few drops of potion and the truth was right there for the asking, what better proof could there be than that? But it was seen as unethical and extreme to use it in most cases. He was of the opinion that the Ministry just didn’t want to foot the cost of using Veritaserum for every single case, it was a very expensive and time consuming potion to brew after all and with the number of cases passing through the Ministry, it would need a substantial quantity of the potion too, which would mount up a substantial cost, if they needed to supply the potion to meet the demand for it with every case.

 

 “I still can’t believe that you managed to get the majority of the Wizengamot to agree to that.”

 

“I didn’t have to.” Harry said with a sigh. “It was a pre-existing law, all I had to do was point it out to the Chief Warlock and it was completely out of anyone else’s hands. There wasn’t a vote, so I didn’t need to convince anyone.”

 

Marcus all but cackled and it made Harry crack a smile too.

 

“Right then, to your Runes.” Marcus said once he was done laughing over the misfortune of others.

 

“Am I getting better to your standards?”

 

“You know that you are. Here, do these.”

 

Harry was handed the familiar worksheets and, taking a deep breath, he dipped his quill into his pot of ink and set to work. He still hated the decoding exercises, but at least his impromptu essay on the dangerous pairings that he’d handed in on their last session had been near perfect, Marcus had said so himself. That had at least made Harry feel a little better and less like an incompetent fool.

Harry handed Marcus the first worksheet once he’d completed it and he started on the second as Marcus started going through the first with red ink. Sometimes Marcus would embellish Harry’s answers and have him copy them down again, to ensure that the information had sunk in, so when Harry saw Marcus dip his quill and start amending his worksheet, he wasn’t too worried about it…well, not overly much at least.

He finished the second worksheet and went right onto the third, leaving the finished worksheet by Marcus’ hand ready for when he finished the first sheet. He was writing rather lot on it with red ink and that made Harry worry more.

He put it from his mind and he carried on with his worksheet instead, seeing in his peripheral vision Marcus put down the one sheet and pick up the second one. It was so tempting to reach out and just pick up the marked sheet and check it, but Marcus was in the habit of smacking his hand if he reached for it before he was ready to talk through them.

Harry finished the final sheet and he sat and waited nervously for Marcus to finish marking his work. He did call Pimsey and politely asked her for some tea for them both. She happily did as asked, even bringing him some of his current chocolate egg, a gorgeously rich milk chocolate with delicately roasted hazelnuts.

He distracted himself with nibbling on the chocolate and drinking the tea. He did not fidget, he did not stare at Marcus as he marked his worksheets and he did not reach out for the already marked sheets.

Marcus finished the final sheet and put it down, there were red marks and scrawls all over it, like the previous two sheets, and Harry tried to think of anything that he hadn’t done correctly, or hadn’t explained fully, but it was impossible to tell what Marcus had picked up on that he might have missed. Marcus was the expert consultant after all.

He watched as Marcus drank down his own tea in several large gulps.

 

“You’re killing me here.” Harry complained and Marcus grinned at him.

 

“You’ve done really well.”

 

“But you wrote so much.” Harry pointed out fretfully.

 

“Only because I think that you’re ready to move onto a higher level. I’ve explained everything in more detail, here.”

 

Marcus grabbed the first worksheet and they spent the next hour and a half going through the three worksheets and Harry’s head was spinning with all the new information that had been given to him, but he had a much deeper, richer understanding of the Runes now and his already healthy respect for them had grown insurmountably. They were wonderful, powerful, but so dangerous and volatile and if used incorrectly, if just one Rune in a combination was even slightly off centre with the others, then they could be fatal too.

Harry said goodbye to Marcus, with plans to meet with him again in a few days for another lesson. They had two more lessons loosely planned before he went back to school in just six days and Harry was determined to show that he could improve, even in such a short amount of time.

He went to find Rabastan, his worksheets in hand as he pored over them, committing what Marcus had said to memory.

He found Rabastan, with his brother of course, and Xerxes. Lucius was in work today, likely manipulating Minister Fudge to do exactly as he, or rather Voldemort, wanted him to do.

 

“There you are.” Xerxes greeted happily. “Basti has been rather irritating in his wait for your lesson to end, please take him off of our hands and give us a small reprieve.”

 

Harry laughed and shook his head as he sat beside Rabastan, making sure to sit on the opposite side to Rodolphus so that he didn’t physically come between the brothers.

 

“I’m sure he wasn’t that bad.” Harry said mildly as he turned slightly and rested against Rabastan, still absorbing the worksheets.

 

“How was your session?” Rabastan asked, ignoring his brother and Grandfather and instead he showed some interest in what Harry was doing, which pleased Harry to no end.

 

“Harder than usual.” He admitted. “Marcus thinks that I’m ready for a more in depth learning, so I’m being sorely tested. I’ve come to respect Runes a hell of a lot more now. I’m never going to be confident enough to actually use them I don’t think, at least not properly like Marcus does! I’d end up dead.” He laughed. “But moving on to understanding them more deeply, it’s frustrating and exciting all at once, because it might be difficult to understand, but it’s still new information and a deeper perspective of what they’re all about and just how they work.”

 

“It seems like you’re enjoying learning a lot.” Xerxes pointed out.

 

Harry smiled and snuggled into Rabastan more. “I am enjoying it, like I enjoy Rabastan teaching me about Arithmancy. When I think about it, I’m so lucky to have people willing to tutor me like this so that I can actually understand it all more fully. I only picked up these electives for this year, so I’m well behind everyone else who all have three years of study on me.”  

 

“It is a good thing that you are such a quick learner.” Xerxes told him.

 

Harry hummed before he put down the worksheets and then focused completely on Rabastan, giving him the attention that he needed to reassure himself now that Harry was listening to him, that he was interested in what Rabastan had to say. They slipped into their own little world, ignoring that Rodolphus and Xerxes were even there as they spoke quietly to one another. It was exactly the way that Harry liked it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry frowned as he looked at all of the junk in the Black vault. Lucius had found some spare time after he’d finished work to bring him to his vaults and Harry had immediately pointed out the offending goblet that had cursed him, which was silver and carved with the Black family insignia. It was larger, older, than the goblets currently being used at Grimmauld Place, and it was the only one that Harry had come across, it didn’t seem to be a part of a set.

Harry went carefully digging through the other items, not touching anything that Lucius had immediately pulled aside after a cursory sweep of his wand.

 

“You were right to be cautious about this vault.” Lucius told him. “It is filled to bursting with cursed objects. Do _not_ touch anything, I will not have you risking yourself in such a negligent way.”

 

Harry nodded at the serious tone in Lucius’ voice and he only touched what had already been cleared. Some of the curses were easy enough for Lucius to counter, others were being kept aside as things a bit more serious that would need a specialist to look over, namely Xerxes. Which is why they had a trunk with them that was being carefully filled with cursed objects that Lucius couldn’t handle or counter on his own.

Harry spied a tapestry and he approached it cautiously. He looked at it with a frown.

 

“What have you found?” Lucius asked him, being alerted to a problem as his son went still and quiet and a quick glance up saw him staring at something.

 

“It has my name on it.” Harry said worriedly.

 

Lucius immediately approached him, but his worried frown melted away.

 

“This tapestry is magically enhanced, Harry. Your name appeared on this tapestry the moment that Sirius left you as his proxy and you inherited everything after his death. You then slid the Black ring onto your finger. When you marry Rabastan, he will appear upon it as your spouse and then your children will appear upon it as your Heirs. You are the new branch of the Black family.”

 

“Why is this tapestry here and not at the Black house at Grimmauld Place?”

 

“You told me that you had been to Grimmauld Place.”

 

“I have!” Harry insisted.

 

“Did you happen to see the tapestry at Grimmauld Place?”

 

“Yes, but it was damaged and burned. Sirius said that his Mum used to blast people off of the…this one would keep repairing itself, wouldn’t it?” He asked, cottoning on.

 

“Well done, yes it would. Regardless that they had been disowned, this tapestry would still document their lives, marriages and children. Walburga Black was a very formidable woman and she disowned anyone who did not live up to her high standards. Whether it was her niece, Andromeda, for marrying a Muggle, her niece’s daughter, Nymphadora, for being a half-blood, her own son for not staying and enduring her abuses or even her own brother, purely for giving gold to her run away son, to provide for him when she refused to do so.”

 

Harry scoffed and then looked at his own name, Harry James Potter-Black, embroidered on the tapestry. It sunk in that he was an actual member of the Black family. He sucked in a large breath and he traced his fingers over where he was placed.

 

“If you wanted to take this tapestry and put it up at Grimmauld Place then it is entirely your decision, it is your tapestry, it is your house.” Lucius told him.

 

Harry considered that. “Could I remove the damaged tapestry to put this one up? I’m in the process of re-decorating Grimmauld Place, I would much rather this one be on the wall than Walburga’s damaged, tarnished one.”

 

“Of course, I could help you with that.”

 

Harry nodded. “It might have to wait for the summer, though.” He sighed.

 

Lucius nodded his understanding as he went back to looking at more cursed objects.

 

“Why are so many of these things cursed?” Harry asked as he looked at what seemed to be a perfectly ordinary pair of five branch candelabra, they seemed to be humming slightly and Harry snapped his gaze away from them sharpish when he realised that he was stretching out his hand to touch them without consciously thinking of doing so.

 

“With the Black family, who knows? They were likely items implicated in a crime, which is why they are hidden in the family vault.”

 

“Who wants to live with so many cursed items floating around? How can you raise children when every innocuous thing they could touch is cursed? No wonder Sirius left that house!”

 

“I believe that this is enough for now.” Lucius said as he carefully floated something else into the trunk for Xerxes to sort out, he was going to be kept rather busy it seemed. “Was there anything else that you needed to do today? Other than going to Flourish and Blotts.” Lucius asked him, adding on the last when Harry went to open his mouth to remind the man that he wanted to go to the book shop.

 

Harry considered the question and then shook his head. “No.” He answered verbally, before he got a stinging hex to the head. “I just want to get some more books, I was hoping that I could find some more books that the school library doesn’t have on the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law. I also want all the books I can find on current creature laws. All of them, even the most innocuous of legislations that were passed.”

 

“Come along then. Have you withdrawn enough gold?”

 

Harry nodded and touched the purse that was inside his robe pocket. It was literally just a bit of spending money for trips to Hogsmeade or for snacks on the Hogwarts Express. Any large purchases that he needed to make then he would use his exchange book.

They left the Black vault and made their way back up to the Alley, trying not to blink like fools in the bright light after the dull, dampness of the underground vaults. They went over to Flourish and Blotts and Harry went straight to the politics section, looking for anything that might help him with what he wanted.

An hour later he had moved from politics to history and he now found himself in the law section. He was adding yet another book to the twenty or so already hovering in a stack behind him.

 

“Are you quite done?” Lucius asked him.

 

“Not yet.” Harry said mildly as he perused several more titles.

 

“I found these several for you, they’re very informative for what you require.” Lucius told him, adding the books to the floating pile that Harry already had. “You will never read all of these by the end of term.”

 

“I actually might. I’m still on a light workload and I have much less homework to do. It’ll be difficult nearer to the exams, but between then and now, I could read quite a lot of these books and then it is another three weeks after my exams before the end of term, so I can spend all of those three weeks reading if I need to.”

 

Lucius’ mouth didn’t so much as flicker, but his eyes did as he smiled at him proudly, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze before he left to once more peruse the shelves while he waited, as patiently as he could, for his son to finish his book shopping. He feared that they would be here for another hour before Harry was satisfied. He was not one to discourage such a habit in his sons, but even he thought that two hours in a book shop was a little excessive.

Thankfully Harry came to him only twenty minutes later, declaring that he had enough to occupy him for now and Lucius added another three books to Harry’s pile and he stood back and watched as Harry handled his purchase himself, using a self-inking quill and his exchange book. Harry signed his name and handed over the cheque and he took his charmed bag of books and met him at the door. He had come on so well and Lucius was very proud, so very proud of the man that he had moulded Harry into becoming.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Rabastan missed Harry already and he’d only been gone for an hour. He had said his goodbyes to his future in-laws, the Malfoys, and he and his family had gone back to Lestrange manor.

He had hoped to avoid his poisonous Father, Rhadamanthus, but he had no such luck as his Father had been lying in wait for him to come back. He did his best to ignore the practical stranger mumbling and complaining about him as he quilled a letter to Harry, as he just couldn’t help himself. He did miss his Fiancé and he just wanted to hold him in his arms again, to have his head resting on his chest as he listened to Harry babble on about this or that. Since the Wizengamot meeting on the twenty-sixth of the previous month, it had been all focused on changing the creature laws.

He was very happy to help Harry with this, as they, the Purebloods as a whole, couldn’t be seen to accept such abominations or to support them in any way. But Harry, who was known for being an incessant advocate of equality for all beings, would be able to do so with no suspicions being cast upon him or anyone doubting his motives or even anyone thinking that there was anything deeper to his proposed laws than him wanting equal rights for all magical creatures, and from Harry’s perspective at least, there actually wouldn’t be anything deeper. But a change in the laws, a loosening of the tight leash that all creatures collectively wore, would help their Lord immensely. It would allow Greyback to move more easily, it would help their creature allies to do as they were ordered without much hindrance, it was a perfect solution. So he allowed Harry to talk about all the laws that he was going to change and how he was going to change them and Rabastan was all too happy to help him to refine these changes so that they contained no loop holes or any room for other interpretations. It made him feel much better about his inability to help his Lord, because this way he felt like he was doing something to help the cause, even if it was something as small as helping Harry to change the laws. So he got behind Harry fully and he was going to start researching for Harry too, to help pass these laws much sooner, and to help pass the time until he could have his Harry back in his arms again.

 

“You are a disgraceful stain on this family.”

 

Rabastan blinked and looked up. His Father seemed to have lost patience with his lack of reply, or even his lack of reaction and attention, and he had spoken the last in a louder voice, so that it broke through his internal thoughts and the soft scratch of his quill against parchment.

 

“Perhaps if you have something to say, you should stop mumbling under your breath and speak more clearly, so that others can actually hear you. Not that anyone here cares to hear what you have to say.” Rabastan said, shoving down the innate fear of this man that he had developed and cutting off Rodolphus, who had been about to leap to his immediate defence, as always. But he had grown so much since he had met Harry, he now felt able to stand up for himself, because Harry had given him some self-worth. He now knew that he had nothing to fear from Rhadamanthus, Harry had shown him that.

 

Rhadamanthus looked apoplectic with rage as Rabastan spoke back to him for the first time. Harry truly was doing wonders for his confidence.

 

“You ungrateful little fuck!” Rhadamanthus spat at him, his fists clenching, a thick vein throbbing in his neck.

 

“Ungrateful?” Rabastan queried. “What am I ungrateful for? As I remember, you did not raise me, it was not you who looked after me or taught me or fed me. It was Grandfather who did so, it was Grandfather who kept me clothed and taught me to read and to write, not you. I did not even know who you were until I was nineteen and you came back from India and two years later Dolphus and I were in Azkaban. I barely know you and I don’t want to know you. Grandfather is the only Father that I have ever known and he is the only one that I want, _Rhadamanthus_. So tell me, what do I actually owe to you?”

 

When it looked like Rhadamanthus was going to physically strike him, Rodolphus shifted and made himself known as he placed a supporting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, letting Rhadamanthus see that he was on Rabastan’s side, but not only that, but that he would also leap to his defence and if he so much as moved in Rabastan’s direction, Rhadamanthus would be meeting him instead.

 

“I would suggest, Rhadamanthus, that you leave this room.” Rodolphus said coldly.

 

“You do not tell me…”

 

“Get out.” Xerxes ordered.

 

The look on Rhadamanthus’ face could have curdled milk it was that sour, but Rabastan didn’t let it bother him as he bent back to his letter to Harry, completely dismissing his Father and whatever he was going to do as unimportant. He heard Rhadamanthus leave and then Rodolphus laughed.

 

“Seeing you finally stand up to him in such a way is a very welcome change, I’m very proud of you.” Rodolphus told him.

 

“It has truly sunk in, he cannot do anything to me. Harry has been telling me since we first met, but only now am I realising that he was right, that man has done nothing for me my entire life, in fact he has been trying his hardest to ruin my life ever since he came back into it, what do I owe him? Why should I listen to him? He’s a stranger to me, I barely know him. I don’t _wish_ to know him. As Harry told me, it’s better for me and my health if I just cut him off.”

 

“That boy has done more for you than you can ever know.” Xerxes told him.

 

“I am well aware of exactly how Harry has helped me, and how much he has helped me, and I know that I will never be able to repay him for all that he has done, or will do, for me and my recovery. But I also know that he has not done as such for any potential returns, he has done this out of the genuine kindness of his heart, purely because he wanted to do so. He could have just cast me aside and found any other number of suitors, instead he chose me and he is helping me to heal myself, to make myself the best person that I can be, both physically and mentally.” Rabastan stopped then, as he saw the looks on his brother and Grandfather’s faces. He realised then what he had just been saying and he repeated the words to himself mentally, then, overjoyed by his discovery, he said them aloud too. Twice, just for good measure. “He chose me. _He chose_ _me_.”

 

The Knut truly dropped for him then and Xerxes and Rodolphus both smiled as they watched the realisation wash over him. They had both been trying to force him to understand what they could see clearly, but it had been a lost cause, they had been unable to force Rabastan to see what they could, but quite by accident, he had come to the same conclusion by himself. All it had taken was Rhadamanthus starting on him once more and finally, Rabastan understood what they had been able to see all along. That Harry had had a choice right from the very beginning, that he could have sent Rabastan packing after their first cursory meeting, but he hadn’t. He had chosen to keep their betrothal, he had said yes to the proposal of marriage of his own free will and he had chosen to stay with him of his own free will. Harry had made his choice and now Rabastan realised it too. It had taken him long enough too.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry missed Rabastan terribly. He had no idea how he was going to survive the rest of the term, let alone how he was going to handle having to go through all of this again for another year. He sighed and looked around his small, private rooms, thrusting a hand through his hair as he did so.

He noticed then that his hands were ink stained and he rolled his eyes at himself. He had been going over his notes from the meetings with Dumbledore. He had kept them here, just in case he took them home and someone read them. If the information was going to be released, it was going to be from his own lips, at a time when he felt ready to release it. Not because some nosy fuck went digging in his private papers.

He looked it over again and nibbled the end of his quill, a habit he had picked up in primary school when he used to nibble on the end of his pens. Lucius had all but squashed the habit now, but while under high stress, and in private, Harry slipped back to his childhood habit of playing with, and nibbling on, whatever was in his hands.

He had circled Gryffindor’s sword and he knew that he needed to get it. He had his invisibility cloak, but he also knew that in order to get into Dumbledore’s office, he’d have to beat the gargoyle. He didn’t know if it was locked, or if it was warded at night to not open, even with the password. Then there was Dumbledore himself, who, as an old man, would not sleep very much. There were no guarantees that he wouldn’t be in the office when Harry wandered in and tried to take the sword. Then there were the portraits, for while they always seemed to be sleeping, they actually had no need for sleep at all and they used it as a way to effectively eavesdrop by appearing to be fast asleep when truly they were wide awake and listening hard to every word spoken.

Thrusting his hand back through his hair, Harry chewed on his lip instead, the tip of his quill was already damp from spit and the feathers were clumping. Lucius would not be impressed if Harry wrote to him to tell him that he needed another set of new quills, because he would have to explain why and Harry did not relish telling him that he’d been chewing on his quills again.

He sighed, put down his quill and picked up some of his broken chocolate egg that was lying beside him. He had done his best to demolish all of them while he’d been on the Easter break, but there had been too many, but he had still eaten half of all of them while at home, except for the chocolate orange egg, which had been completely eaten within three days.

It was as he was chewing on the chocolate hazelnut egg that he had an idea and he perked up as he mentally explored it. He frowned as he realised that he couldn’t use Pimsey for this, she was the Malfoy elf and if caught, it would implicate him and his family. He couldn’t use Dobby, who was a Hogwarts elf. No, it would have to be Kreacher, which reminded him that he’d wanted to figure out what that elf was doing and where he kept vanishing to, he had entirely forgotten when he’d gone to decorate Grimmauld Place with Remus.

 

“Kreacher.” He called out.

 

The old, sagging elf appeared in Harry’s rooms and immediately bowed to him.

 

“Master called for Kreacher.”

 

“I did. Where have you been? I know that you haven’t been at Grimmauld Place.”

 

“Kreacher has been with Mistress Bella…”

 

“If you tell me that you’ve been with Bellatrix I swear, I’ll…” Harry cut himself off with a huge inhale and he clenched his fist. “You are forbidden from going near her, you cannot see her, speak to her, get others to speak to her for you or contact her by any means. You are not to follow her orders or to go to her if she calls for you, do you understand me?” He demanded seriously.

 

Kreacher looked about ready to cry, or to scratch out Harry’s eyes, but he bowed and murmured a general agreement.

 

“It might have escaped your notice, but I am Lord Black now, you follow my orders and no one else’s, understand?”

 

Kreacher again bowed and murmured another general agreement.

 

“I am not a cruel person, Kreacher. I am not going to hurt you, I am not going to ask you to hurt yourself, but you are testing me to my limit. You know how I feel about that woman! I don’t blame you for your part in Sirius’ death, I know how he treated you, but I am not him and I don’t want you anywhere near her. Any orders that she has given to you, you are to immediately disregard.”

 

Kreacher bowed so low that his long nose touched the floor. Harry got the feeling that Kreacher was cursing him in his head, but he allowed Kreacher to keep his own thoughts.

 

“Now, I have a task for you, one where you mustn’t be caught or seen.” Harry said.

 

Kreacher looked up at him curiously, waiting for Harry to carry on, but Harry was collecting his thoughts and thinking of how to word the order so that it contained no loopholes, just in case. If anything it was going to be good practice for when he started writing law proposals.

 

“I need you to get something for me, but it might be warded with spells and the place where it’s kept is warded.” Harry stopped and considered his words more. “I am an adoptee of the Malfoy family, I am Lord Potter-Black and I am to be married to Rabastan Lestrange. You know what that means, Kreacher. I am your Master, you will keep my secrets at all times and hold your tongue with others. I need the sword of Gryffindor.” Harry said and he watched as Kreacher’s bloodshot eyes widened in shock. “It’s kept in Dumbledore’s office, but I can’t go in and get it, Kreacher. I need you to get it for me without being seen or heard. This cannot come back to me. No one must know that it was you, no one must know that it was me, do you understand?”

 

Kreacher nodded mutely.

 

“You will take the sword immediately to Grimmauld Place, you will hide it in a corner of the attic so that no one can see it or find it until I go and get it. Can you do this, Kreacher?”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“You can pick the time when you do this, when you feel it’s safer for you to do so without being caught.” Harry insisted. “Take as much time as you need for this task, Kreacher, but come to tell me immediately after you have done as instructed, so that I know the sword is at home.”

 

Kreacher nodded his understanding. “Yes, Master.”

 

Harry nodded. “Not a word of this to anyone, Kreacher, off you go.”

 

Harry watched as the elf bowed and then vanished from sight and immediately after, Harry was hit with doubts, nagging insecurities and scenarios where things could go horribly wrong. He chewed on his lip some more.

If he was caught with the sword, if Kreacher was caught and Harry implicated…he sucked in a deep breath and calmed himself. He needed the sword to use it as a bargaining chip, it was worth the risk. If he was caught with it, then he’d just have to say that he wanted to look at it closer and then give it back over and try again in a year or so.

He closed his eyes and then put away the notes that he’d made. He calmed himself and then stood up and went to get himself ready for bed, before he would take his nutrient potion. He wanted to be in bed and fast asleep before the night sweats and fever kicked in, so that he was fresh and ready for his lessons the next day. Perhaps he _should_ pick up a little more homework, he obviously had far too much free time on his hands.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry had picked up a little more homework during that next week, but only for Transfiguration. He had gone to Professor McGonagall Monday morning and he’d asked her for a little more to do, she had been a bit leery of giving him more work to do, as the first thing that she had asked was if he was still taking his potions, and when he had told her that yes he was, she was all for refusing him, but he had convinced her that he was feeling better, stronger, that the potions were working, albeit rather slowly, and she had finally relented and given him some more challenging exercises to work on over the next week. He was on a trial basis, however, if she believed that the work was too much for him, then he would be back on his lighter, easier workload.

In the meantime he felt a little happier that he had less time to worry about anything and that his mind had less time to come up with awful scenarios as he threw himself into the new exercises and essays with something akin to relish.

Today, a Saturday, he was distracting himself with something else, as he tutored Luna and Astoria in Defence, later that evening he had another meeting with Dumbledore to learn more about Tom Riddle, the boy before the man who would turn into Voldemort.

Astoria had been included in the Defence tutoring when Draco had asked him that morning if he wanted to go to the library to study, but Harry had told him then that he was tutoring Luna. Astoria had all but begged to be included, as she just couldn’t get the hang of certain spells. Harry had agreed, so now he was running a sort of mini DA, with just Luna and Astoria, though Draco and Blaise were coming along too. The older two insisted that it was purely to watch, but he knew better. He was the unchallenged top of Defence in their year and he had been since their first year. They were coming to pick up tips or hints that they could use as Harry tutored the two younger girls.

Luna was her usual dreamy self, Astoria was coolly polite and focused. It had been over an hour and only now were they getting the hang of the blasting curse, after many demonstrations, theory debates and add-ons from Draco and Blaise, safely behind the girls on the settee, away from the line of fire, so to speak.

 

“Right girls, _Confringo_!”

 

Harry used the strongest blasting curse on the chair and it blew apart into several pieces, one of the legs even embedded itself in the wall, his curse had been that strong.

 

“The wand movement of this curse is just to literally point at your target, locking your elbow as you do so. The power behind this spell comes from imagining the object, or person, exploding.” Harry told them, using his best voice, the one he used in the Wizengamot to get people to listen to him, imbued with the ‘Professor’ voice that he’d used while teaching the DA. “Luna, you go first.”

 

“ _Confringo_.” Luna said, pointing her wand at the newly repaired chair. There was little power behind the spell, it did at least make the chair fall apart, but the pieces stayed within a two foot radius.

 

“Okay, Luna, you need to imagine it exploding a little better and use a sharper pointing gesture. Astoria, you try.”

 

“ _Confringo_!” Astoria cried out. Her chair did explode on a larger scale than Luna’s, but it still more or less fell apart rather than exploded.

 

“That was good, Astoria. You need to move your wand better too.”

 

Harry moved around behind her and held her dainty wrist, he slashed her arm in a smooth outward motion from her chest to point dead outwards at the chair. He repeated it and then let Astoria do the move on her own. He moved over to Luna and he repeated his actions, standing behind her and slashing her wand out for her.

 

“Astoria, go.” Harry instructed.

 

“ _Confringo_!” She cried and Harry grinned as the chair did explode this time. Nothing got stuck in the wall like when he’d done the curse, but for a young girl, it was a damn good start. She wouldn’t be able to make people explode, not yet, but she was getting there and it would at least give them a nasty shock of pain, which would hopefully, if either girl was ever in such a situation, Merlin forbid, give them the time they’d need to get away safe.

 

“Well done, Astoria! Luna, go on.”

 

“ _Confringo_!” She shouted and the newly repaired chair was blasted apart once again.

 

“Yes, girls! Well done!” He said. “I think we can leave things here for now. You’ve both done very well and you’ve come so far in just one lesson. I want you to read up some theory on binding spells if you have the time for our next lesson. This is just a bit on the side, okay? Do all your homework first, I don’t have the power to give you a detention, but your Professors do.”

 

The two girls nodded and Luna said her goodbyes, picking up her book bag and leaving, she no longer had her wand in her hand, but she was practising the movement as she walked, which pleased Harry, even as he sat his arse down beside Blaise. Astoria sat next to Draco and Harry took a moment to just relax.

 

“You really are a good teacher.” Blaise told him.

 

“I’m looking into it as a career.” Harry said. “It makes me happier to help others. I’m actually good at it.”

 

“You are, I am rather lacking in Defence, that was why I sort of pushed myself upon you when I heard that you were tutoring Lovegood personally.” Astoria told him. “I never thought myself capable of the blasting curse.”

 

“You are very capable of it, Astoria, you just need to believe in yourself. You can do it, and I believe that you’ve just proven that to yourself today as well.”

 

“My curse wasn’t as powerful as yours.” She lamented.

 

“It was never going to be, I am, after all, a rather powerful wizard.” He grinned to show that he was teasing, but Astoria still giggled at his boasts, as he knew that she would.

 

“Reel your ego in.” Draco told him and Harry laughed.

 

“You can’t complain of anyone else’s ego.” Harry lent over Blaise to prod at his brother.

 

“Will you show us the Reductor curse?” Astoria asked.

 

Harry gave a look to Draco, but his brother gave a slight shake of his head. He hadn’t told Astoria about his little show at the New Year, when he’d used the Reductor curse to blow off Rowle’s leg. The Reductor curse had never been intended for living targets, that was what the blasting curse was for, the Reductor curse was meant to be a lower level blasting curse for use on inanimate objects, but Harry, or his magic for that matter, had never been one to play by the rules.

 

“Sure. The Reductor curse is a milder form of the blasting curse that I just showed you and it usually only works on inanimate objects, or rather non-living targets.”

 

“What do you mean _usually_?” Blaise queried immediately.

 

“I’ve seen the Reductor curse used on a living target and it was not pretty.” Harry said. “It takes a lot of power to bend a curse from its original purpose, but it can be done, so always be aware of that.”

 

“What did it do?” Astoria asked him curiously. “Who cast it and upon whom?”

 

Harry shook his head.

 

“It was you, wasn’t it?!” Blaise demanded. But fuck was Blaise an observant shit, Harry cursed him for it now.

 

“It never leaves this room.” Harry insisted sternly. “I may well end up in Azkaban for this.”

 

The two out of the loop both looked at him, wide eyed and very serious. They each nodded their heads.

 

“It was me who used the Reductor curse on someone. It is one of my favourite spells. I know personally what it can do against a living target because I was witness to it.”

 

“When was this?” Blaise asked. “Who did you curse?”

 

“If you ever mention it to anyone, even in passing…” He threatened.

 

“I won’t, you know I won’t.” Blaise insisted.

 

“I won’t either. Draco is my betrothed, that makes you my family. Family will always keep the secrets of family.” Astoria said primly.

 

“It was at the Ball my family hosted.”

 

“The New Year party?” Blaise asked in shock, having obviously expected this incident to have been a lot further in the past than a mere three months ago.

 

“You changed your robes that night.” Astoria said, recalling the night. “You were wearing blue robes when you greeted us as host, then when I next saw you, you’d changed to green. Draco told me that someone had knocked a serving bowl of trifle into your lap and you’d gone to change to give yourself time to cool off. Did you…did you curse the person who knocked the serving bowl onto you?”

 

“No, Astoria.” Harry said. “There was no incident with a serving bowl, that was just a lie I’d told Draco to spread around to explain my change of robes, he knew it was a lie, but at that point even he didn’t know what had happened, I told him later that night, after the party had ended and everyone had gone home. But, as it turns out, the Reductor curse used with enough power on a living target is very… _messy_.”

 

“You’re still not saying who you used the curse on, or why you did so.” Blaise pointed out, but Harry could almost see his sharp mind whirring as he tried to figure out the puzzle.

 

“Can you think of no one who I might have used that curse on that night?” Harry asked him, giving Blaise ample time to figure it out. He knew when Blaise had connected the dots and finally understood when his purple eyes widened in alarm.

 

“Thorfinn Rowle! He’s gone missing and no one can find him. He was last seen at the Malfoy party and he attacked you a week earlier, at the Parkinson’s Christmas party! He attacked you again, didn’t he?”

 

“He did, so what I did, though considered excessive, was actually self-defence. Astoria, you need not listen to this if you don’t wish too.”

 

“What did he do?” She demanded, a fierce scowl covering her young, ardent face.

 

Harry sighed. “He was intent upon ruining me and my betrothal to Rabastan, as this was the night before we got engaged. He tried to…” Harry trailed off, trying to prevent his mind from going back to that night and he inhaled deeply to control himself. “He tried to rape me on the bathroom floor of my own home with the intent of getting me pregnant and then using the baby to force Father’s hand into breaking my betrothal with Rabastan and allowing Rowle to marry me to keep the baby legitimate.” He forced out in one go, trying to keep his voice as steady and as emotionless as he could.

 

Astoria gasped and had covered her mouth with a small, shaking hand and Blaise looked ready to murder Rowle all over again. Their reactions made Harry more confident that they would keep this secret to themselves.

 

“I wasn’t about to let anything of the sort happen to me.” Harry carried on. “Rowle had already tried to daze me by smashing my head into a mirror, I lost my bearings and the next I knew we were on the floor, his hands around my throat telling me how I had humiliated him, a Pureblood of such high prestige he was attacking a sixteen year old in a bathroom for rejecting him. I was dizzy and in pain as he let go of my throat and started tearing open my robes, telling me his grand plan of how he was going to rape me and get me pregnant so that he could have the biggest claim to me. I tried to gouge out his eyes with my thumbs, but he head butted me and then punched me for good measure. It was when he broke the front of my trousers that I really panicked as I realised that he was actually serious about raping me. It hadn’t truly sunken in before that moment, but as he tried to take off my trousers, I knew he was actually going to go through with it. I found my wand and I don’t even know what the first spell that I used was, my anger and fear took over and without having to say a word, Rowle was blasted four feet away from me and I was able to catch my breath again. That first spell had broken his arm, badly broken it, but it wasn’t enough, I was so angry. I didn’t even think about which spell to use, I just picked my favourite blasting curse, not even remembering that the Reductor curse wasn’t meant to be used on anything living, and I aimed right between his legs.”

 

Draco and Blaise both flinched in reflexive action, but Astoria almost snarled in pleasure at hearing that Harry had targeted the very thing that Rowle would have used to harm him with.

 

“Unfortunately he moved at the last moment and the curse hit his leg instead.” Harry said.

 

“What did it do?” Blaise asked as Harry trailed off into daydreams.

 

“It blew his leg off with such a force that it almost exploded, it was raining blood in the bathroom as the leg went spinning off into a corner. The blood was everywhere, dripping down the tiles, it covered everything, including me. The puddle under Rowle was getting larger even as I watched, the stump he was left with was just spurting blood everywhere and there was no stopping it, the sever was too high up to put any sort of pressure on it as there was nothing left to hold onto. I still remember the high, animalistic pitch of his screaming. I’ll never forget that sound now, for as long as I live. After that I hurried to a spare room down the hall and I sent Pimsey to get Father and he brought Xerxes, Rodolphus and Rabastan with him along with…along with Fenrir Greyback. I told them what had happened and Father assured me that he’d take care of everything. Rowle was alive when I left the bathroom, but Greyback is Greyback.” Harry said, watching as the three faces went chalk pale. He hadn’t told Draco that Greyback was involved originally.

 

“You never…” Draco cut himself off.

 

“I know. I was trying to spare you some of the grisly details. Rowle was alive and screaming when I left, but he was bleeding so rapidly that he might have easily bled out in the time that it took for me to explain everything. I have no idea if I was the final executioner or if Greyback was, I didn’t want to know. Sometimes I think it would be better if the final cause of death could be pushed onto Greyback, then I think that it would still be my fault because I had reduced Rowle to being defenceless and unable to get away as he was being eaten alive. So no, I never want to know the truth, but you can see why I don’t want this spread around. I could be a murderer for all I know, in fact I could probably be charged for culpable murder, as it could be twisted that I helped Greyback to kill Rowle. Anyway, I left the clean up to Father, Xerxes, Rodolphus and Greyback, while Rabastan took me upstairs to clean me off and to help me change my ruined robes for the only pair that I had left.”

 

It was silent in the room as everyone absorbed the story, and Harry knew exactly what a horror it was too. Then Blaise threw an arm around him and pulled him into a hug.

 

“It was self-defence.” He said strongly. “Any witch or wizard in the same position would have done exactly the same if they were able to. The Reductor curse isn’t supposed to be used on the living, you could argue in your defence that you were aiming at the floor, or even the bath, to slow him down while you escaped, only he moved into the path of the spell and, well, who would have ever expected a spell designed to be used on inanimate objects to be powerful enough to completely sever the leg of a grown man? Just remind me to never piss you off, Harry, because if you are so good at Defence spells that you can change the designed purpose of the spells that you use, then you are crazy powerful and I never want to get on your bad side.”

 

“I would never use any spell as a form of punishment or simply out of hand. Rowle had attacked me twice, had tried to strangle me, had threatened to kill Rabastan, had tried to rape me and he had punched me in the face. Of course I was going to defend myself against that, but I would never use such curses lightly, not in a debate or even an argument. I wouldn’t even use such curses if we were fighting and I was furious. Quite literally the only time I would use them would be in situations like the one with Rowle, when I am being physically attacked and I’m fearing for my life or future. Then I will use any curse I have in my arsenal to get away.”

 

“It is a very large arsenal too.” Draco joked.

 

Harry chuckled. “It is. Which reminds me that I got the members of the DA to cast a corporeal Patronus last year. Astoria, I think you need to learn too.”

 

“But that is very advanced magic! I’ll never be able to do it.” She complained.

 

“You will. Luna can already do it and I can teach you too. Don’t forget that I could cast a corporeal Patronus at thirteen. I can get you casting one too.”

 

“Can you teach me that one too?” Blaise asked.

 

Harry nodded. “I can teach all three of you together.”

 

“I want to learn alone.” Blaise insisted.

 

Harry gave him a confused ‘why the hell do you want to do that’ face.

 

“Well if my Patronus is a fucking mouse, I obviously won’t want anyone else knowing about it!” Blaise explained.

 

Harry laughed. “It won’t be a mouse. You’re quiet and observant, but you’re far from timid. You’d maybe be a lion or some other big cat that’s lazy at times, but always watchful and quick to pounce.”

 

“He’s only quick to pounce on a pretty girl.” Astoria put in coolly.

 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’ve done pretty boys too.” Blaise added with a smirk. “Speaking of which, Harry…”

 

“No.” Harry said quickly. “Whatever it is, no.”

 

“Leave my brother alone.” Draco growled. “How many times do I have to warn you off?!”

 

“You wouldn’t have to if Harry gave me one night of passion with his gorgeous, virginal self.” Blaise laughed.

 

Harry backhanded him in the chest, but ultimately just rolled his eyes and ignored him.

 

“How do you know it would be passionate?” Astoria asked curiously, seemingly unable to help herself as she looked Harry over critically.

 

“Are you kidding?” Blaise replied. “Harry is one of the most passionate people I know, of course he’d be an absolute wildcat in bed!”

 

Harry blushed pink in embarrassment and hid his face in his hands.

 

“Blaise!” He whined. “Stop saying such things!”

 

“It’s true though! I’m completely jealous of Rabastan and that he’ll be getting you on your wedding night.”

 

Harry had a thought then and, knowing how archaic the Purebloods were, his heart just about stopped.

 

“Please tell me that no one will be listening or watching on our wedding night?!” He begged, remembering then that in the past it had been socially acceptable for people to be witness to that first night, at least, it was in the past in the Muggle world.

 

“Of course!” Blaise replied immediately. “It’s the best part of a wedding and the only reason I go to any! You’re going to look stunning in a sheer, white robe laid out on a bed of white silk in a room large enough for all of your guests to be witness. You’ll be so passionate after Rabastan strips you naked and has his way with you and I’m betting money with Theo that you’re loud too.”

 

Harry was almost sick and his face must have paled dramatically because Draco reached over and he hit Blaise, hard.

 

“I have no idea what barbaric practice you are speaking of, but it will not be playing a part in my brother’s wedding!” He said angrily. “Of course no one is going to watch you have sex, Harry. That is a private moment between you and your new husband! No one else should see or hear a thing, it’s rude. Why did you even think of such a horrific thing? Is it some sort of Muggle tradition? Do Muggles actually allow others to be witness to such an intimate, private moment?”

 

“It’s an old Muggle tradition.” Blaise said with an unapologetic grin. “Hundreds of years ago it was actually expected to be able to watch the bride be deflowered by her new husband on their wedding night, or to just listen at the door and shout out encouragement, and then they’d display the bloody sheets afterwards as proof that the bride had been a virgin.”

 

Astoria looked horrified and Harry was only just regaining control of his hammering heart and ragged breathing. There would have been absolutely no way that he would have married anyone, love of his life or not, if that practice was actually expected of him.

 

“How revolting!” Draco’s pointy face was pinched in disgust.

 

“I’m not even surprised that you know of such traditions!” Astoria declared to Blaise. “Knowing how lecherous you are, of course this Muggle titbit found its way into your knowledge base.”

 

“Mother took me to several museums and old cathedrals every year when I was younger.” Blaise said with a wide grin. “Muggle and magical alike, so that I could have a broad understanding of world history. I also know how the Muggles used to use everyday items as torture devices in place of magic and potions.”

 

“I think my stomach has turned enough for one night without hearing about torture too.” Harry said weakly.

 

“Yes, you’ve had enough fun at Harry’s expense tonight!” Draco told Blaise. “Enough now.”

 

“To think that all of this has come from us talking about Patronus forms.” Astoria shook her head, her blonde hair sliding over her face. Before she could move to swipe it away, Draco had done it for her, gently brushing the strands out of her face and tucking them behind her ear.

 

Harry averted his gaze from the loving gesture and he smiled. The two were getting much closer in recent months, since Harry had given a bit of useful advice to Draco and gave him a bit of a push. It was wonderful to see, because Astoria really liked Draco and was happy with their match, and truly, Harry believed that Draco was just as happy with the match now that he realised that Astoria did actually like him, but was just a little shy. They were much more comfortable with one another and Astoria was no longer leery around any conversation with Draco, as she’d proven time again now that he was paying her more quality attention and not just sticking to the minimum hour after dinner every day that the betrothal contract outlined for them.

They were rarely apart these days and though he disliked admitting it, and he would never show it, Harry was rather jealous, because he couldn’t even speak to his Fiancé face to face. He couldn’t hold his hand through the corridors, he couldn’t cuddle up to him in the evenings in front of the fire. It wasn’t fair. He just really missed Rabastan and it drove him mad when all he wanted to do was have an actual conversation and a cuddle with him. He shoved it aside. He truly was happy for Draco and Astoria, he just couldn’t help but be jealous of them too, but that didn’t mean that he had to be an utter dick about it either. He just had to keep reminding himself that it wouldn’t be for long, it was the middle of spring, summer was coming quick, he would be taking his exams in just over a month, at the end of May, and from now until then, he was going to be very busy studying, so at least during the longest term at Hogwarts he was going to be kept busy through it. That way he wouldn’t have much time to think of anything, much less have the time to worry and fret over it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry made his way to Dumbledore’s office for yet another meeting, though this would be his first in a while, since Dumbledore insisted that he needed yet another memory and he was having difficulty in collecting it. Apparently Harry was supposed to have helped over the previous summer, but he had been with the Malfoys. Harry had no idea how it was that he would have been able to help, but he didn’t care enough to ask. 

He said the password to the gargoyle and walked up the stairs to the office above, trying to push away the thoughts of what else he could be doing right about now if he didn’t have to come here and endure this meeting about Voldemort. Though he was excited to learn more as he hoped to fit more pieces of the puzzle so that he could solve it at last.

 

“Come in, Harry.” Dumbledore said as Harry gave the door a cursory knock.

 

He had already entered before Dumbledore had asked him too. He wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating today. His eyes automatically clocked Gryffindor’s sword, in its pristine glass case on the shelf behind Dumbledore’s head, before he looked at the man himself.

 

“How are you feeling today?”

 

“Fine, a little tired, but that is to be expected.” He said cordially.

 

“I can see that you would prefer to get right to the point of this meeting.” Dumbledore said.

 

“I do have a lot of revision to get through and I need to sort out my robes for the Wizengamot party next week.”

 

“Ah, yes. I remember that it is to be held later this month. It will not interfere with your studies?”

 

“No, I have my exam revision well in hand.”

 

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, before he nodded and turned to the Pensieve in front of him.

 

“To business then, Harry.”

 

Harry steeled himself for this, setting his mind to the task of memorising everything that was going to happen in the Pensieve.

When he landed, he was in a classroom and there were half a dozen teenaged boys sat around an older wizard with a gingery-blond moustache, clearly a Professor, sat in a winged armchair, his feet resting on a velvet pouffe, drinking wine and eating small yellow squares that seemed to be covered in sugar. 

Harry found Tom Riddle amongst the boys, he was wearing the Gaunt ring on his finger, and slightly confused as to what was going on, Harry looked around curiously, trying to figure it out. He was actually stunned to see a teenaged Xerxes among the boys around the Professor and his jaw all but dropped in shock.

Dumbledore came to stand beside him, just as Tom spoke. Harry listened intently, not just to what Tom said, but to how he said things. He seemed to be overly flattering and the Professor even commented on it. Harry did find out that the yellow cubes were pieces of sugared pineapple, however. It seemed that even at this young age Tom seemed to be overly informed of everything and everyone around him. He always seemed to know too much.

 

‘…I confidently expect you to rise to Minister for Magic within twenty years. Fifteen if you keep sending me pineapple. I have _excellent_ contacts at the Ministry.’

 

Harry almost sneered at that. Who was this Professor who was promising such? Where was he now? It seemed almost questionable that he had a group of young, impressionable boys around him, promising them such high stations of office in exchange for gifts. It seemed like exploitation to him and he didn’t like it. He would have to ask Lucius about it…or actually, seeing as Xerxes was part of the group, perhaps it would be better to ask _him_ about this strange Professor.

 

‘I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir.” Tom replied. “I don’t have the right kind of background, for one thing.’

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. So these boys knew that he was raised as a Muggle, which meant that Xerxes knew…did they know that his Father was a Muggle, or had he lied from the off about that and just claimed ignorance of the magical world using the orphanage as an excuse. That would be something he’d have to find out too.

That the boys, including Xerxes, all smirked at one another, Harry was almost sure that they knew something about Tom being related to Salazar Slytherin. Perhaps he’d even shown them that he could speak Parseltongue as proof, or perhaps wearing the Gaunt ring was enough to prove to them that he was at least related to a Pureblood line, even one as grossly inbred, impoverished and dilapidated as the Gaunts had become.

A clock in the memory chimed and Harry wondered where this was going as the boys all moved as the Professor shooed them away. He hid his smirk at the shot at Xerxes however… ‘Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or it’s detention.’ He was going to enjoy teasing Xerxes over that.

Things became clearer to him when the boys all moved off, except for Tom Riddle. Then the real reason he was being shown this memory became clear when Tom started questioning his rather uncomfortable seeming Professor about Horcruxes. Harry frowned automatically at the unfamiliar term.

 

‘No…well…you’d be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that’ll give you details about Horcruxes, Tom. That’s very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed.’ The Professor insisted, but he was weak to Tom and Harry frowned harder. Why was that? Did this Professor have a soft spot for teenaged boys? Was that why he was no longer teaching at Hogwarts? Now he was going to have to find out who this Professor was and owl Xerxes, if he had been groomed at Hogwarts by a Professor, if all those boys in this memory had, then it was no wonder that he had such a close bond to Voldemort, that they all had such a close bond to Voldemort, if they had all suffered through the same abuses by the hand of one perverted Professor.

 

Harry focused more on the memory, leaving those thoughts for later, he would only get to see this memory once, he needed to absorb all he could from it as Riddle laid out his careful flattery, the slight hesitance in his voice, and the Professor just opened like a book, a rather reluctant book, but he still told Riddle all that he needed to know, with just a few flattering comments and a faux look of innocent curiosity…it made Harry question himself, just who was grooming who here as he sensed Riddle’s excitement under his carefully controlled mask. Harry knew all about those, what with wearing one while in the Wizengamot meetings himself.

 

‘Well you split your soul, you see and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then even if one’s body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But, of course, existence in such a form, few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable.’

 

Harry watched the Professor’s face crumple at the thought and Harry himself remembered Voldemort’s words from years before.

 

_‘I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost…but still, I was alive.’_

 

Harry saw the ardent hunger on Riddle’s face and he knew then, this was what Voldemort had done and this Professor had told him how to do it as Riddle pressed him for details, and he caved easily. He had a Horcrux. Something that was holding a part of his soul safe to keep him alive. That was how he had survived that Halloween night…no one knew how Harry had survived the killing curse, but now he knew how Voldemort had survived the rebounded curse…the Horcrux. A piece of his soul, a fragment of himself lingering behind, keeping him safe from true death.

 

‘How do you split your soul?’ Tom asked, the longing on his face clear to see now, the Professor looked very uncomfortable, but still, as he had caved before, he caved again, and he told Tom all he needed to know about splitting one’s soul with an act of evil. By committing murder.

 

It made Harry think back to Rowle…had he in fact split his own soul? Was it, right now, metaphorically in two halves? Or did it not count as he hadn’t set out to murder Rowle? Did it not count as it was self-defence? Would his soul even know the difference between murder, manslaughter or self-defence, or would it treat them all as one, all as an act of murder? Perhaps he would have to actually feel that the death was a murder before the act of soul splitting took place, he just didn’t know enough to understand. He would have to research this very rare, obscure branch of magic a little more in-depth, it seemed, especially if Dumbledore wanted him to learn of Horcruxes, for what else could these lessons be pointing to other than destroying Voldemort’s Horcruxes and finally destroying the man.

 

‘Merlin’s beard, Tom!’ The Professor all but yelped, tuning Harry back into the memory. ‘Seven! Isn’t it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case…bad enough to divide the soul…but to rip it into seven pieces…’

 

The Professor looked disturbed now, deeply troubled as he gazed at Tom as if he had never seen him properly before in his life. Harry could already see the regret on his face, that one of his boys was not who he thought he was, or perhaps for caving in so easily and telling him exactly what he needed to know when it seemed that this Horcrux business was so monstrous and vile. Yet still he had caved and had told a teenaged boy about such things. It was this Professor’s fault that Riddle knew how to make a Horcrux, seemingly how to make seven of them, if Harry was following the thoughts of memory Tom correctly. He might have been able to find the information out via other means, but perhaps he never would have found the right way to do so if he hadn’t been told the steps of making a Horcrux in the first place.

 

‘Of course, this is all hypothetical, what we’re discussing, isn’t it? All academic…’ The Professor said almost hopefully and Harry cursed him for a complete fool if he even halfway believed what he was saying.

 

‘Yes, sir, of course.’ Riddle said quickly. Too quickly in Harry’s opinion.

 

‘But all the same, Tom…keep it quiet, what I’ve told…that’s to say, what we’ve discussed. People wouldn’t like to think that we’ve been chatting about Horcruxes. It’s a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know…Dumbledore’s particularly fierce about it…’

 

‘I won’t say a word, sir.’ Riddle promised and he left, but Harry saw his face as he turned, full of the same wild, unrestrained happiness he had worn when he’d found out he was a wizard at the orphanage, a happiness that made him seem less than human and Harry hated the Professor in the memory, who had told Riddle about Horcruxes, who had told him how to make them, the steps he’d need to follow, and then told him to keep it quiet. He should never have told him in the first place.

 

“Thank you, Harry. Let us go.” Dumbledore said, gaining his attention.

 

Harry sat heavily in the chair back in Dumbledore’s office and he tried to control his breathing.

 

“I have been waiting for this piece of evidence for a very long time.” Dumbledore told him. “It confirmed the theory on which I have been working, it tells me that I am right, and also how very far there is still to go…”

 

Harry breathed heavier and his hands clenched into fists, but he said nothing.

 

“I am sure you understood the significance of what you have just seen. At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal.”

 

“No one is truly immortal.” Harry said thoughtfully. “If he does have a Horcrux, or seven as he mentioned in that memory, and that was how he survived after he attacked me, then, from my understanding of what I’ve just heard, if they are destroyed, then he can be destroyed too. The only question really is, how many and where are they now. Did he truly make seven of them and what did he use to encase them in?”

 

Dumbledore looked at him in a new light, almost like that professor had looked at Tom, and Harry pulled his mask back to cover his thoughts and feelings.

 

“Four years ago, I received what I considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul and made a Horcrux.”

 

“Where did you find it?” Harry asked.

 

“You handed it to me, Harry.” Dumbledore said and Harry’s mind went into overdrive, back four years ago, to his second year. “The…”

 

“The diary.” He said with a shock he couldn’t hide. “It was strange from the start, that diary, it was his diary, Tom Riddle’s. That wasn’t an enchantment upon it, was it?”

 

“No, it was something much more sinister than an enchantment, Harry, to be able to sap the life from a young girl whose hands it had fallen into. To be able to think and act for itself? No, it was a Horcrux, a part of Tom Riddle’s soul lived in that diary. What intrigued and alarmed me most was that the diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a safeguard.”

 

“I don’t understand, how?” Harry asked.

 

“It worked as a Horcrux is supposed to work, in other words, the fragment of soul concealed inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted that diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess somebody else, so that Slytherin’s monster would be unleashed again.”

 

Harry frowned. “That’s all conjecture though, he didn’t hand that diary to anyone himself. So perhaps he only intended for it to be a safeguard, and not a weapon, but if it was to be found, then why not kill two birds with one stone and make it so that his Slytherin heritage was found out, as he couldn’t take credit for unleashing the Basilisk at the time.”

 

“Quite correct, but don’t you see, Harry, that if he intended for this particular Horcrux to be passed on to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts student, so that the chamber could be opened once more, then he was being remarkably blasé about that precious fragment of his soul, which was concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into somebody else’s path and run the risk that they might destroy it. As indeed happened: that particular fragment of soul is no more; you saw to that.

The careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux seemed most ominous to me. It suggested that he must have made, or had been planning to make, more Horcruxes, so that the loss of the first would not be so detrimental. I did not wish to believe it, but nothing else seemed to make sense.”

 

Harry listened carefully to what was being said and he fit more pieces of the puzzle together. The entire thing, the whole bigger picture, it all made sense now, with the addition of the information about Horcruxes. Seven of them, Voldemort had seven of them…six if you discounted the ruined diary.

 

“How can we possibly find all of the Horcruxes that he has? They could be anything, be hidden anywhere!” Harry said through his teeth. “It is an impossible task!”

 

“If we take the theory that he split his soul seven ways, one part resides inside his body, the one that will need to be destroyed last. But you have already destroyed one Horcrux, Harry. The diary, and I have destroyed another.”

 

“You have?” Harry said, faking a bit of relief, but truly he was thinking, hard and quickly.

 

Dumbledore nodded and he reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a small box. Inside the box was Marvolo Gaunt’s ring…the ring that Riddle had been wearing in the memory he had just seen. The black stone was cracked, straight down the middle.

 

“How did you find it?” Harry asked with a frown, his mind working even harder.

 

“I have made it my business for many years to discover as much as I can about Voldemort’s past life. I have travelled widely, visiting those places he once knew. I stumbled across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunts’ house. It seems that once Voldemort had succeeded in sealing a piece of his soul inside it, he did not want to wear it anymore.”

 

“Of course not.” Harry interrupted. “He would be handing a piece of his soul to whomever was attacking him. You could take out the Horcrux and him. Of course he would have hidden it.”

 

“Yes, he concealed it in the Gaunt shack with powerful enchantments, never guessing that anyone would want to go there, that I would one day trouble to visit the ruins. However, if we are right with our seven-part soul theory, four Horcruxes remain.”

 

“His trophies.” Harry sighed as it clicked into place. “The locket, the cup, the ring, his own diary. He was using his trophies. The locket and the cup, he killed Hepzibah Smith for them…did he actually make them into Horcruxes with her death? Or did it require two deaths? So if he made one of them into a Horcrux, where would he had hidden it?”

 

“Thus you see the magnitude of the problem.”

 

Harry rubbed his forehead. “If he went after objects belonging to the founders, and he found something of Slytherin’s and something of Hufflepuff’s…can we assume that Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were on the list too?”

 

“Yes. Yes we can.” Dumbledore said proudly. “I am not sure if he ever found anything of Ravenclaw’s. I am, however, very confident that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe.” He said, pointing to the sword in its glass case behind him.

 

“Are you sure it was the only relic?” Harry asked. “Could he not have found something else, anything else?”

 

“He might have done, but I do not believe so.”

 

“That leaves one missing Horcrux.” Harry said frowning, thinking back to the memories he had seen, and to the notes he had taken.

 

“I think I know what the sixth Horcrux is. I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behaviour of the snake, Nagini.”

 

“The snake?!” Harry turned his head sharply. “Can you even use animals as a vessel for a piece of a human soul?”

 

“It is inadvisable to do so. To place a piece of your soul into something that can think and act for itself is obviously a rather risky business. However, if I believe that I am right, then Voldemort was still one Horcrux short when he entered your parents’ house, intent on killing you. It seems that he saved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths and you would have certainly been that.”

 

“Because of the prophecy.” Harry said angrily, his jaw clenched. “He thought that by killing me, he was preventing it from ever happening, when instead he fulfilled it, or at the least set it into motion in the first place.”

 

“Indeed. As we know, he failed to kill you. Some years later, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it is my belief that it then occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. Being a snake, she underlines the connection to Slytherin and he is as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close.”

 

Harry breathed deeply through his nose. “The ring and the diary are destroyed. That leaves the cup, the locket, the snake and either something of Ravenclaw’s or of Gryffindor’s, or something else of equal magical history if he didn’t manage to find either.”

 

Harry lifted a hand to his hair and tugged on it, chewing his lower lip as he did so, thinking hard.

 

“Is that where you go when you leave the school?” He finally asked. “Looking for where he might have hidden those objects? If we have assumed correctly and that is what we are even looking for?”

 

“Yes, Harry.” Dumbledore said. “I have been looking for a very long time. I think, perhaps, I may be close to finding another. There are hopeful signs. A location that Voldemort once knew, concealed magic…”

 

“And if you do.” Harry said quickly. “Can I come with you and help to get rid of it?”

 

Harry got that same look from Dumbledore again, an intent look, as if he was being closely screened and measured. “Yes, I think so.”

 

“I can?” Harry asked, thrown for a moment, as he had fully expected to be denied and that he would have an argument on his hands…he had gotten rather good at debating his point after all.

 

“I believe that you have earned that right.”

 

Harry chewed on his lip once more. “Father won’t like it, so I would appreciate it if he weren’t told.” He said slowly, carefully. “I am still recovering and I am still on potions. He has asked that I be careful with my health, and to limit any strenuous activities. I do not think that this would class as either. The less he knows about this, the more I can enjoy my summer in freedom, and not locked up in my room like a tearaway toddler.”

 

“If that is what you want, Harry.” Dumbledore said graciously, but Harry could almost sense how pleased he was that Harry wanted to keep this a secret from Lucius Malfoy. It was not, however, entirely for Dumbledore’s benefit…he needed a bargaining chip, something to hold over Voldemort. He now knew about his Horcruxes, when it seemed that there were only three people in the world who did, Voldemort himself, Dumbledore…and him. Moreover, he knew exactly how much Dumbledore knew about those Horcruxes and what he believed them to be. It needed to come from his mouth though, not Lucius’, not Xerxes’, but his, or he would lose all sway, because he would want something in return…Lucius and Xerxes would pass it along freely, because they served Voldemort and they wouldn’t dare ask for anything in return for the information.

 

“Will he know? Does Voldemort feel when a Horcrux is destroyed?”

 

“A very interesting question, Harry. I believe that he doesn’t, that these most crucial parts of himself have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps at the moment of death he will be aware of the loss…but he was not aware, for instance, that the diary had been destroyed.”

 

“But…he didn’t have a body then.” Harry pointed out. “He didn’t get his body until the ritual in the graveyard two years later. Could that not factor into his inability to feel their destruction? Could he actually feel anything while living as a spirit?”

 

Dumbledore looked a little stunned at that piece of insight, but he recovered well.

 

“I am not sure, Harry. But I know that he also did not react to the destruction of the ring, which was destroyed in the summer, when he did have a body.”

 

Harry nodded once to show his understanding. “I can’t even begin to comprehend the vileness that he’s done.” He said after a time. “Six significant murders, to his mind, to make seven pieces of his soul, and you’re not even sure what the vessels are. The cup and the locket are possible certainties, the snake too, but what did Ravenclaw leave behind? Was there anything more of Gryffindor’s besides the sword? Did he even find anything of theirs and if he didn’t what would he have used in their place? Did he perhaps find two relics of Slytherin and use that too? It isn’t very much to go on, we are chasing after the wind!”

 

“We must not lose heart, Harry. It is the only way to destroy him for good.”

 

Harry breathed in and he nodded. “An impossible task then, you will let me know when you have found the next Horcrux?”

 

Dumbledore nodded.

 

“Then I need to get some sleep and I fear it will be a long time coming tonight with all that I have been given to think about.”

 

“Of course. Remember to speak to no one about this.”

 

Harry nodded as he stood. “I don’t want anyone knowing of this. It is better if it is done quietly.”

 

His mind was racing as he left the Headmaster’s office and he hurried his steps back to his rooms. He needed to write all of this information down, all of the memory, which prompted his little mental note to contact Xerxes about that questionable Professor, Slughorn. Why was he no longer teaching at Hogwarts? Was it something as easy as retirement, or was it anything a little more sinister. He needed to know.

He made it back to his rooms and he set his small kettle to boiling, dumping a teabag into a mug before going to his coffee table and unearthing his notes of the meetings with Dumbledore. He wrote all of the information he had received down in one massive clump that almost had his hand cramping…his fingers and the side of his right hand were covered in black ink.

He made himself tea, sat down with it and then stared at the information overload he’d gotten today. He couldn’t believe that something so vile as Horcruxes actually existed, but at least he now knew why Voldemort kept popping up, why he wouldn’t actually die. He was as immortal as immortal got, but even then it wasn’t true immortality, because if the Horcruxes were destroyed, you were vulnerable once more to true death.

He sighed and gulped the tea, staring at the several sheaves of parchment in front of him. At least now he knew why Voldemort was collecting relics of the founders, it made his plan to take the sword of Gryffindor all the more important…and he knew that after the meeting tonight that the suspicion would fall even heavier upon himself when it was discovered missing. He would need to be ready for that when it eventually happened. Because of his ties to Lucius Malfoy he would automatically be implicated in the theft of the sword, with good reason too as he was going to be the one to take it, but he would need to be ready to throw the suspicion off of himself and onto someone else, especially if he was to go hunting for a Horcrux with Dumbledore really soon. He would not be taken along if his loyalty or motives were called into question. He _would_ be ready for whatever came his way…he had, after all, gotten much better at hiding behind a mask recently.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Severus Snape tried to keep his mind on marking the large stack of homework in front of him, but he found it rather difficult to remain focused on what he was doing.

The reason for his lack of attention was his thoughts on Harry Potter, or rather how he was being charged by the Dark Lord to protect the boy in the school, and how he was charged by Dumbledore to spy on his long-time friends, the Malfoys. The same Malfoys who had asked him to watch out for Potter and his health while he was taking his, rather strong and severe, potions.

Potter himself seemed to be completely fine. Severus noticed the slight pinching of the face during the mornings, caused by the bone strengthening potion that he was taking which caused severe headaches, and he did notice the slight drowsiness in the afternoons, after he had taken the calcium potion at lunch, both of which were normal side effects of the potions that he was taking and to be fully expected. But other than the slight tells that could be overlooked easily, Potter was his usual self…well, the usual self that the Malfoys had meticulously crafted. Potter had had to cut down on his work load, which meant that Severus had to grit his teeth and set him simple pieces of work that would more suit someone two years younger than Potter was, instead of the two rolls of parchment per essay that he expected from his NEWT level students, but it was a small sacrifice compared to the rather serious nature of Potter’s overall health issues.

He still couldn’t believe that the boy was so severely ill, nor that it had been caused by abuse while he was just a child. It brought up all sorts of odd feelings that Severus would rather not associate with Potter, but regardless, that was what was happening.

Putting the latest scribble that someone was trying to pass off as an essay to one side, Severus took a moment to breathe deeply to calm himself. Since Lucius had charged him with looking after Harry, followed up a few months later by the Dark Lord charging him with looking after the boy, he had kept a closer eye upon him.

It was how he was able to notice the slight shifts in mood or temperament brought on by the side effects of the potions that he was taking. Of course, now that he knew exactly which potions Potter was taking, it was much easier to discern the cause of such swings of mood and to diagnose the side effects more accurately. He had not revealed what Potter was taking to Dumbledore.

Oh the man had asked, but Severus had told him that there were too many potions that had such side effects for him to be sure and that Lucius was keeping what was ailing Harry as a closely guarded secret. It had frustrated the man, he could tell, but Severus had remained still and stoic behind his defence of the side effects being too vague and ambiguous and that there was nothing more that he could do without arousing suspicion from Lucius or straight out asking Potter what he was taking himself.

He sometimes regretted the direction that his life had taken him because of the choices that he had made. Lily had been everything to him and in the end he had pushed her away because she’d seen him in such a vulnerable, humiliated position. Hindsight was always a curse, and as he looked back on that day, on the memory that had truly ruined the one good thing that he had had in his life, he could think of a thousand better ways that he could have handled that situation, one of them even included the death of Black and Potter, but it hadn’t happen in such a way, though both Potter and Black were now dead, leaving their legacy behind in the form of Harry. Harry who had been abused so severely that he might have died if his condition hadn’t been found soon enough.

It was all very hard to swallow and to come to terms with the knowledge that Harry Potter had all but switched sides. He had declared himself neutral and in doing so, he had condemned those of the Order of the Phoenix to fighting a war that they couldn’t possibly hope to ever win.

Severus had had to subtly switch sides yet again too, without alerting Dumbledore that he had done so, and without alerting the Dark Lord that he had even switched sides in the first place. It was a lot of stress to juggle and any small, slight mistake could cost him his very life.

Taking another deep breath, he picked up another essay written by a complete dunderhead who had obviously understood incredibly little about the lesson he had given.

He did sometimes wonder why he had been pushed into teaching when the one thing that he hated the absolute most was disgusting little children. Oh he knew that Dumbledore had pushed it upon him to keep him close, to watch him as often as humanly possible as he only went back to his own home in Spinner’s End during the summer.

Oh how he despised children. He usually only looked forward to his NEWT level students, because he demanded only Outstanding OWL students, thus they were very committed to their Potions work and were often very competent brewers. This year, and the next, he was forced to put up with Granger and Potter in his classroom. Potter was much better attitude wise since Lucius had taken the reins of him, but he still looked like a clone of his Father, only further enhanced when he was looking down into his cauldron or at his ingredients and his eyes couldn’t be seen. Lily’s eyes. He didn’t know which was worse, not seeing those eyes and seeing a clone of James Potter sat in his classroom, or looking into those eyes and seeing Lily.

Granger was another matter entirely. She was such a busybody and such a know-it-all that she was nearly insufferable in the classroom. He tried to engage the children, despite the fact that he didn’t much like them, but it was always Granger who answered, Granger who thrust her hand up, all but dancing on her feet and then, unable to control herself, she would blurt the answer out before he called upon her, not even allowing her classmates a chance to think for themselves or the time that they needed to come to the correct answer by themselves. That was why he couldn’t stand having her in his classroom and he had to grit his teeth every time she spoke out of turn or blurted out a stream of information like a text book. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her throat and squeeze until her eyes bulged out and her mouth stopped spewing information on tap.

He took another breath and put aside another essay that was covered in his spiky corrections in red ink and he picked up another one.  

He was wasted stuck in this teaching position. He should be in his own Potion’s lab, brewing and experimenting as he had done in his youth, finding out ways to make better potions, to get the most out of the ingredients, hunting down rare and unusual ingredients, finding out their properties and calculating their unique qualities and uses so that they could be used in newly developed potions.

He shouldn’t be stuck in this castle full of bad memories and the ghost of Lily Potter in every room, teaching bratty children who didn’t even understand the subtleties and the power of potions, let alone how to correctly prepare and brew them. It was devastating to watch them flounder and fail purely because they were too stupid to read the instructions or hadn’t learnt the basic properties of the ingredients that they were using. He hated it here. He hated teaching. He just really hated children in general.

He put aside yet another essay full of random drivel that didn’t even make sense, now covered in red ink marks from his quill with a ‘D’ scrawled into the top corner and he picked up yet another essay from the endless stack of them, dipped his quill into his red ink and prepared for yet another mind numbing read.

He had to get away from this castle, he needed to get away from the children and he needed to be on his own, by himself, developing potions in his own lab. This endless, mindless teaching was going to drive him slowly into madness and he could no longer put up with it. He would wait one more year, until Potter had graduated and he would no longer have to look out for him for Lucius or the Dark Lord. He would be free then to stop teaching, he would be free to leave this castle and he would be free to pursue a life of brewing and developing potions, as he had always wanted. Just one more year, then he could be free of teaching, free of this castle and free of all the filthy children inhabiting it.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m very pleased with this chapter, and with Harry’s objective look at Slughorn, as looking at that memory from the outside, without knowing who Slughorn was or about the Slug Club, it is definitely rather questionable that he traded connections for gifts with teenaged children. I rather enjoyed that little addition and I can’t wait now for Xerxes to receive Harry’s delicate, probing letter. That’ll be hilarious.
> 
> This is it for now, lovelies. Chapter 20 will be posted either next week or the week after I think, depending on how quickly I can finish it, but it’s already 10,000 words, so we’ll see, but I am aiming to get it posted before the end of March, so I’ll see you all very soon and I hope that you’ve all enjoyed this chapter,
> 
>  
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	20. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> He had to get away from this castle, he needed to get away from the children and he needed to be on his own, by himself, developing potions in his own lab. This endless, mindless teaching was going to drive him slowly into madness and he could no longer put up with it. He would wait one more year, until Potter had graduated and he would no longer have to look out for him for Lucius or the Dark Lord. He would be free then to stop teaching, he would be free to leave this castle and he would be free to pursue a life of brewing and developing potions, as he had always wanted. Just one more year, then he could be free of teaching, free of this castle and free of all the filthy children inhabiting it.

 

Chapter Twenty – Bargaining

 

Harry tugged uncomfortably at the stunningly green dress robes that he was wearing. They had arrived that morning as a gift from ‘Aceline’, who’d urged him to wear them for his Ministry party as he’d look so beautiful in them. Of course Rabastan would have bought him robes as close to the same colour as his eyes as he could find. His Fiancé had asked for pictures to be sent to him, wearing his gifts, all dressed up and ready for a night of being harshly scrutinised by people he didn’t give two fucks about.

Draco, with Astoria of course, had both become as annoying as mosquitoes as they buzzed and fluttered around him and made sure that he was perfectly dressed, groomed and presentable. He had his hair messed with, his nails filed and buffed by a disapproving Astoria, his eyebrows had been groomed and he was actually starting to get pissed off with all the fussing as Draco straightened his collar once again…for the seventh or eighth time in the last hour.

 

“I’m going to be more than fashionably late if you carry on.” He snapped as Draco moved from his collar back up to his hair.

 

“Let me just sort this stubborn patch of hair.” Draco replied distractedly.

 

“It’s all stubborn!” Harry said, flailing his arms about in agitation. “You’ll be here all night trying to tame it.”

 

“I’m not trying to tame it, I’m just trying to get it into some semblance of neatness.” Draco told him.

 

Harry sighed impatiently and tried not to give into the urges to childishly throw himself to the floor and roll about to ruin all their hard work of the last two hours. He really wanted to do it, though, but knowing his luck, they’d just start again and he’d be stuck here for another two hours until they’d finished once more.

 

“Just a little longer, Harry. This isn’t going to be like the house parties that you’ve been to in the past year.” Astoria told him gently, sensing his mounting frustration…or maybe it was the furrowed brow, scrunched nose and scowled lips that had clued her into his increasingly darkening mood. “This is a Ministry party, reporters for the newspapers and magazines will be there, your picture will appear in all the glossy rags and papers. You need to look good, Harry, or they’ll tear you apart and you’ll embarrass your family…both of them.”

 

Well…when it was put like that it seemed like a good idea that he had other people to help him dress and groom himself. He sighed heavily and he silently endured the torture of being poked and prodded about.

Another twenty minutes and he was just about ready to tear his hair out when Draco stood back and declared him done. Astoria looked him over in a way that made him feel more like a mannequin than a living person, before she nodded her head too and Harry almost breathed a sigh of utter relief. Finally!

 

“I do adore these cufflinks that Rabastan gave you with the robes.” She said, looking at the cuffs of the black shirt underneath, the robes over the top being cut in such a way as to cover his thumbs and most of his fingers, but expose the little finger and the side of his hands, and the underside of his wrist too, thus showing off the silver cufflinks with the oval howlite stones. Or at least that was what Astoria had told him they were, he wouldn’t have known otherwise what the black veined, smooth white stones were. He’d have probably said marble if he’d been pressed. Astoria had given him a withering look when he’d admitted to that.

 

Rabastan had chosen these robes with very careful forethought and consideration to the cut and colour, as to how best to show him off fully. He looked good all groomed and dressed to perfection with subtle hints of accessories, but not too overdone, as Draco had explained as he had made sure that all three of his rings were perfectly placed on his fingers. It might have taken two hours to get him to actually look good, but it would be worth it to send those photos to Rabastan…and of course so that he didn’t embarrass his family in front of the media by looking like some scruffy waif who’d just walked in off the streets.

The cufflinks were his favourite accessories though, after his beloved engagement ring, of course, as they were ‘Aceline’s’ favourite cufflinks, which meant that they’d come from Rabastan’s own, incredibly extensive, collection of cufflinks and they were his personal favourites. It made him feel so proud to wear them, a little piece of Rabastan with him to keep him company this night. Though he would be seeing his Fiancé later anyway, because very thankfully he had permission to stay at home overnight, because the party would not end until gone midnight. Because of that, it made more sense for him to go back home for the night than to trudge back to his rooms at Hogwarts, though it was doubtful that he would be staying quite that long at the party anyway. They’d be lucky if he stayed for an hour with the prospect of spending more time with Rabastan on the other hand.

 

“Am I presentable enough?” He asked impatiently, as the two studied him from either side.

 

“As presentable as we’re ever going to get you.” Draco quipped. Astoria gave him a small shove.

 

“Don’t be mean to your brother, he looks stunning. We’d best not let Blaise see you like this.” She teased. “Pose for a photo first, for Aceline.” She winked at him.

 

Harry laughed, but he smiled and did as Astoria had instructed, feeling a little stupid with an audience, but it was for Rabastan, so he didn’t mind.

 

“I will have these developed for you and send them right over to Rabastan.” Astoria promised. “He will see you first, when you arrive there after the party, but you won’t look this good and neat by then. You’ll be a little more rumpled and your hair would have undone all of Draco’s hard work of the last two and a half hours.”

 

Harry snorted. “I best go then. Fifteen minutes late as I already am.”

 

“Do try not to ruin anything before you get there. Your photo will be taken as soon as you arrive.” Draco told him. Harry nodded.

 

“I’ll see you all tomorrow for our study session. Astoria, I will tutor you and Luna tomorrow afternoon too, in preparation for your Defence exam.”

 

“Thank you very much.” Astoria gave him a beaming smile.

 

“Don’t stay here without a chaperone.” He lectured, then he winked. “Don’t go getting too risqué on my settees. I was told that I’m not allowed to replace them.”

 

He touched the rings on his finger and he activated the portkey before he could hear a reply from Draco or Astoria and he landed in the Atrium of the Ministry for Magic. It was swarming with people and as Draco and Astoria had warned him, the reporters immediately swung to look at him, their photographers following and his photo was taken several times in just a few seconds, being heralded by a halo of flashing, blinding lights. It was lucky that he had landed with a smile on his face from his parting shot at Draco and Astoria and it was lucky that he had been taught not to squint like an owl with all the lights around him.

 

“Good evening.” He greeted politely, ignoring all the quick-fire questions being directed at him as he lightly elbowed his way through the wall of people, keeping his bright smile in place and his eyes slightly wider than usual, to counter any narrowing or blinking of his eyes due to the lights and flashes.

 

“Mister Potter! Will you tell us about your bride-to-be?” One witch called out, notebook and quill at the ready. “Do you have a picture of the ring that you gave her? Or a picture of her for us?”

 

Harry acted like he hadn’t heard her, but he looked down to his own gleaming ring. No doubt that would be splashed around the magazines too as they theorised if his and ‘Aceline’s’ rings matched perfectly or if they had each bought a different ring to present to the other.

He milled around for a bit, avoiding reporters asking invasive questions, he declined a glass of champagne from a serving house elf, making sure to do so politely and hunched down, so he could get eye contact under the tray, which was being held aloft, over the house elf’s head. His photo was snapped doing that too and it would appear in at least one magazine by tomorrow. He would have to stop this appalling practice too. There was no reason why people couldn’t walk to a table and pick up their own drink or hors d’oeuvres, as they had done during the two parties over the Christmas season. Abusing house elves in this way was unneeded and he wouldn’t stand for it. He found it entirely repulsive and he would stamp it out within his proposed, re-written, creature laws. Which reminded him that he’d wanted to have Rabastan look over the newly reformed section that he’d been working on. He touched his inside robe pocket, and heard the scrunch of parchment. He had, thankfully, remembered to put it in his pocket for later. He couldn’t wait to present it to Rabastan when he saw him later.  

He found Lucius in the throng of people, though truthfully he’d seen a flash of platinum blond from all that silky, baby fine hair that was loose and free flowing tonight, and he immediately made his way over to him.

 

“There you are, are you well?” Lucius asked him, giving his shoulder a small, possessive touch, as if to tell those present that Harry was _his_ son and no one would be getting to him unless they went through Lucius first.

 

“I am. I had a bit of trouble getting away from Draco and Astoria, but I managed to escape once both of their backs were turned.” He joked.

 

“I thought you looked better than usual.” Xerxes told him with a sly smile.

 

“Did you get my letter? I’m sorry if it was upsetting, but I need to be sure.” Harry said seriously.

 

“What are you talking about now?” Lucius asked quietly.

 

Harry looked from Lucius to Xerxes, the both of them looking confused. Hedwig hadn’t arrived, Xerxes had not received his letter yet.

 

“Ah.” He said. “In that case I will explain later tonight. I had hoped Hedwig would have arrived by now, so that we could go right into the explanation without the build-up.”

 

“And what, may I ask, does it pertain to?” Xerxes questioned.

 

“Something Dumbledore showed me, that’s all.” Harry said, then danced his gaze past Xerxes’ shoulder and he smiled, letting the other two men know that they were no longer alone. This really wasn’t the place for personal conversations anyway, you never knew who was within earshot.

 

“Lord Potter-Black, it is nice to see you.” The Minister for Magic himself approached and they shook hands, more flashes going off in his peripheral vision. It felt like the photographers were actually following him or something.

 

“Likewise, Minister.” He said, trying to make his statement sound sincere.

 

“Your exams are coming up, are they not? NEWTs, very exhausting indeed, I do hope that you are prepared.” The man gave a false, oily sounding laugh and Harry got the feeling that he was being patronised, he didn’t like it, he didn’t laugh or smile in return.

 

Some reporters tittered at the Minister’s comments and he saw more than one writing things down in their ever present notebooks. Truly he felt like he was a new species being studied and documented by scientists for unusual habits or behaviours. The reporters standing close enough could hear them, though, so it was time to show them all why the Wizengamot meetings were all going his way, of which they would know of from the heavily edited reports that they received when it was deemed necessary.

 

“I am currently revising for my exams, yes. I still find the time to read up on law and legislation in my free moments, however.” He lied smoothly, implying that he actually had any spare time to do any recreational reading at all. “I believe that you receive a copy of all manuscripts from the Wizengamot, Minister? After the little, _hiccup_ , during the last meeting, I am actually concerned that past cases have been mishandled. I have been looking into such, as it is deeply troubling, as I’m sure that you’ll agree.” He replied in such a condescending tone that he saw the Minister’s aide, stood beside him as if they were still at work, actually flush in sympathetic embarrassment.

 

“I…yes, of course.” Fudge blustered, as Harry had known that he would, being led by the hand as he’d been, he could hardly say anything else, not with the reporters so close to them, listening hard, writing down every word spoken. “Terrible business, this abuse of the laws. Terrible.”

 

Harry inclined his head. “I am sure that is why you are going to conduct a full investigation on the matter, Minister, am I right?”

 

“Yes, absolutely.” The Minister said rather angrily.

 

Harry inclined his head again and tried not to show any smug satisfaction on his face. He was getting much, much better at leading others into doing as he wanted them to do. Lucius had been right, once you knew how to do it, it was rather easy.

 

“I am very glad that this matter is being taken seriously, and that an investigation is going to be conducted. What use are our laws if they aren’t even being upheld?”

 

The Minister was saved from any more of Harry’s embarrassing manipulations by the arrival of Dawson Shacklebolt, Harry turned to him happily and engaged him in conversation, snubbing the Minister completely. Fudge hurried off rather quickly, his young aide dogging his footsteps.

 

“You are looking much better today, if I may say so.” Lord Shacklebolt said with a smile.

 

“I am feeling much better, thank you.” He said with a genuine smile of pleasure. “Are you well? How is your son, I had heard he’d been in an accident.”

 

“The fool.” Dawson sighed with a shake of his head. “He was messing around with dangerous Runes and he put them in the wrong order. Then, saying that, my grandson, Leander, took all the sense. His Father never had much. I am handing Leander the Shacklebolt Lordship once I pass. Eben would embarrass the family to the point where we would never recover.”

 

“Marcus Flint is tutoring me in Runes, he has instructed me on how very dangerous they are and to never play around with them.” He said. “I take that warning very seriously.”

 

“As you should.” Dawson said sternly. “Runes are not to be messed with, as my fool of a son has found out, at the expense of his fingers.”

 

“Will he get them back?” Harry asked concernedly.

 

Dawson shook his head. “As far as the Healers can tell, it is a permanent injury. More fool him for messing with things that he did not understand. He is mediocre with Runes at very best.”

 

“I am sorry to hear that the injury is permanent.” Harry said softly.

 

“I wouldn’t fret over such things. Eben is always messing with things that he shouldn’t be. I’m surprised that he’s reached forty to be completely honest with you. My nephew, Kingsley, always had more sense. It seems that my brother, Paxton, had the son that I should have had and I had the one meant for him. Paxton never had much sense either.”

 

“How about your younger grandson, Deacon?” Harry asked, marvelling at the rather sensitive information he was being told about another Lord’s family. Usually they kept their problems to themselves and within their family, so that no one ever found out, though the Daily Prophet had reported about Eben Shacklebolt being involved in an accident, which was why Harry had asked.

 

“He and his Wife are expecting any day now.” Dawson said happily.

 

Harry remembered being taught, back last year in the summer, about all of the Pureblood houses and their relations. Deacon Shacklebolt was married to Isobel MacDougal, her younger sister, Morag, was in his year at Hogwarts, she was a Ravenclaw and was betrothed to Syed Shafiq, another family of the sacred twenty-eight. His older brother, Asad, was betrothed to Hallie Grigoryan, one of the foreign Pureblood families. It was easy to see how all of the families were interrelated multiple times over.

Leander Shacklebolt, Dawson’s oldest grandson, was married to Olivia Yaxley, they were not expecting a child yet, though not from lack of trying, it seemed. The Yaxley family was related both to the Black family, thus his own, and to the Lestrange family too. Lyvia Yaxley, Olivia’s great-aunt, had been Xerxes’ wife, and the poisonous Mother of Rhadamanthus.

 

“Congratulations.” Harry said with a smile.

 

“Thank you, Harry. It is an exciting time, to be expecting the arrival of a new generation.”

 

“Oh, of course, this will be the first of the next generation of the Shacklebolt family.” Harry said. “Kingsley isn’t married and Leander and his wife are not expecting, are they?”

 

“That is true enough, but Leander is taking Olivia to Spain in two months, a bit of space and privacy might be just what they need.”

 

Harry chuckled lightly, but their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the Chief Warlock, Albert Runcorn.

 

“Greetings, Lord Shacklebolt. Lord Potter-Black. I hope that you are well.”

 

Harry smiled, looking to Runcorn. “I am, Chief Warlock. Please call me Harry outside of meetings.”

 

“As you wish, Harry. Your Father has informed me that you are working on your own law reforms. I cannot wait to see what you wish to implement, you are an exceedingly bright young man.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry said, a little smug at having his ego stroked, but he reigned himself back in and he refused to allow it to affect him overly much. “I am looking to make some changes and additional reforms that I hope will improve the community overall. Some of the archaic laws and the disgusting inequalities need to be changed as soon as possible.”

 

“I agree.” Albert Runcorn told him. “If you get those reforms to me as soon as you can, I will see to their suitability and then it will be discussed in the Wizengamot at the earliest convenience.”

 

Harry stood straighter as someone hailed away Runcorn, who made his excuses and left as quickly as he had come, doing the rounds he needed to as Chief Warlock.

 

“Well, you are one of his favourites.” Dawson teased. “He held that creature bill back for four and a half months before bringing it onto the agenda to be discussed.”

 

“He can do that?” Harry queried, looking to Lucius and Xerxes, who had turned back around once Runcorn had gone.

 

“Absolutely.” Xerxes told him. “As the Chief Warlock, he can hold back any proposal he wishes, though for no longer than a full year after it was first submitted. He must truly enjoy your debating sessions if he is willing to push forward your proposals immediately, instead of holding them back for several months.”

 

Harry preened and the three men around him chuckled and snorted in amusement. Harry just smiled happily.

 

“Am I right in guessing that one of your new proposals is to do with the current creature laws?” Dawson asked him curiously. “You were furious with the last proposal debated.”

 

Harry controlled the anger he felt at being reminded of that proposal in law change, if he ever found out who that had been…he breathed in deeply. “Yes.” He said calmly. “I will be ripping up the current laws and working towards equality for everyone, creatures and humans alike.”  

 

“We are very proud of your dedication too.” Lucius insisted.

 

“How much more have you gotten done while at school?” Xerxes asked him.

 

“A little more.” Harry insisted, touching the pocket that contained the very proposal they were discussing.

 

“You’ve brought it with you?” Dawson laughed, looking to him indulgently.

 

Harry nodded. “I am staying at home overnight, I wished for my Father to look it over, just in case I have missed anything. Several eyes are better than just my own, after all and I am still young. I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I can write proposals and change any laws all by myself. I’m willing to ask for help where I know I need it and I don’t think that there is anything wrong with that.”

 

They were interrupted again, this time by Lord Sarpedon Carrow. He had taken in his twin great-nieces, Flora and Hestia, and his infant great-nephew, Adrastos, after the death of his older brother’s only son, his nephew, Zephyrus, the previous Lord Carrow.

The deranged and apparently rumoured incestuous brother and sister, Amycus and Alecto Carrow, were his third cousins on his Father’s side. Lucius had told him that Lord Sarpedon mostly pretended that Amycus and Alecto didn’t exist, even when standing beside them. His sister, Ilaria Carrow, was Marcus Flint’s grandmother.

 

“Lucius, Xerxes. A word.” He said crisply.

 

“Excuse us a moment, Harry.” Lucius said, patting his shoulder.

 

Harry nodded and he ignored that it was likely Death Eater issues. He went looking for a drink, but all he could find were trays of food and drink being held aloft by house elves, and he refused to take a drink from a tray that was resting on another creature’s head. The very thought of it brought a sneer to his face, but aware of the photographers milling around, he quickly controlled himself and his facial expressions to something more pleasingly neutral.

He mingled instead, speaking to several Lords of Noble houses, known politically in the Wizengamot as Ancients. Only the Lords of the families that were classed as one of the sacred twenty-eight families could be classed as an Ancient within the Wizengamot, so Harry was an Ancient through his Black seat. He would have been a New Man, a Pureblood but not a member of one of the sacred twenty-eight families, with just the Potter seat, but as the political factions took the highest seat one held, Harry was politically classed as an Ancient.

He wandered a little more, speaking to those he met, so as not to look like a loner, or like he was being snubbed or excluded, as such a thing could be disastrous for his reputation. Something he really didn’t need right at this moment, while he was blazing a line of fire through the Wizengamot.

He tried to avoid Lord Corban Yaxley, whose older sister had been Xerxes wife and the Mother of Rhadamanthus, but the man made a very big social faux pas and grabbed his hand as he slipped past him. Harry shook him off very quickly, aware that such things could be taken as favourable attention in a picture.

 

“Good evening, Lord Yaxley.” Harry said rather stiffly, not willing to play nice with a man who had just grabbed at him.

 

“Lord Potter.” Yaxley said back, offering him a rather big insult by refusing to acknowledge that Harry was also the Lord of house Black.

 

“It is pronounced Lord Potter-Black, actually.” He said with a forced, sweet smile, his eyes glittering.

 

“If you were not labelled as a non-target…”

 

“But I am.” Harry cut in smoothly, a hard edge to his voice. “You can’t touch me without incurring the wrath of a certain someone.” He hissed, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. “I am in direct correspondence with him you know.” He lied easily, watching the other man opposite him. Lord Yaxley was very good at hiding his reaction, but Harry still detected a slight flinching around his eyes. “So if I were you, I would be a little _nicer_ towards me.”

 

“You are not as untouchable as you think you are, Potter.” Corban spat, all the muscles in his face clenched to keep his neutral mask in place so that he didn’t sneer or grimace. “You’ll come to a sticky end one of these days, very soon.”

 

“So you are threatening me.” Harry said mildly. “That is good to know, so that I can now watch you more closely. You and that vile nephew of yours.” He said, alluding to Rhadamanthus, as he was clearly the centre of this little talk. Rhadamanthus had always insisted that he had friends and associates. It seemed that his Mother’s brother, his Uncle, was one of them. “You seem to forget that I have friends in even higher places than you do. Isn’t that just galling?” He baited with a smirk. “I would watch yourself, Yaxley, or it won’t be me meeting a sticky end.”

 

Harry gave a hard stare for a moment more, then he turned, confidently displaying his back to Corban Yaxley, and he walked off, going back to mingling with meaningless small talk and platitudes about everyone’s family members, while insisting that his own were all very well, thank you so very much for asking.

He was finding out that these parties were all very false and were mostly a show of solidarity, of hereditary superiority, for the reporters, photographers, and then once published, the rest of the wizarding world. It was all very dry and boring, he couldn’t even eat or drink anything because of the house elf servers. He had never wanted to check his silver pocket watch so much in his life, but if he did and he was caught in a photo, it could cause a scandal. He didn’t want that either, so he’d have to suffer, as he didn’t think he’d been here for more than an hour yet, even though it felt more like three. It was going to be a very long, tedious night.

 

“Not mingling with the Disdains, are you?” Lord Philip Nott sneered at him.

 

Of course it would be too much to ask that he was left alone. No, it seemed that he was being set upon on all sides tonight and if it was one person he truly did not want to speak with tonight, it was Theo’s greedy, uncaring Father who did not deserve to have such a wonderful, strong, intelligent son as Theo.

 

“Such a word in these halls, in public, is a disgrace.” Harry told him as mildly as he could manage. He hated that all Muggleborn members of the Wizengamot, something that wouldn’t even have been allowed a few generations ago, were labelled as Disdains by the Purebloods when truly they should have all been called Neutrals, along with the other Heads of Department members, which sometimes included Purebloods, though only those who were not Lords of their own houses and thus could not be classed as New Men or Ancients via a loophole. The Purebloods hated being classed as an equal to Halfbloods and Muggleborns, hence their derogatory title of ‘Disdains’ for the Muggleborn members of the Wizengamot who were officially titled as Neutrals.

 

“You should be one of them.” Philip spat at him.

 

“The only disdainful person here is you.” Harry quipped back.

 

“I would hope that you are not harassing him.” Xerxes snapped, having obviously spotted the altercation and had come quickly to lay a comforting, protective hand over Harry’s narrow shoulder. “You know what I’ll do to you if you are.”

 

The elderly Lord Nott went rather pale. Harry would have too if he’d been threatened with the Lestrange family. Lord Philip Nott controlled the sneer that wanted to form on his face with an iron will and then he skulked off with his tail between his legs, leaving Harry with Xerxes, much more pleasing company in Harry’s opinion. Though, of course, he was thankfully going to become a member of the Lestrange family, so he had no need to be afraid of them like Nott, as he wasn’t one of their enemies…unless Rhadamanthus counted, but then Rhadamanthus hated all of them, including his own Father and sons. He was actively trying to ruin his youngest son in every way possible even, so Harry didn’t count him as a member of the family.

He spent some time talking more animatedly with Xerxes, then they were both separated by others coming and getting involved, drawing them each into separate conversations, and then, when he next looked around, Xerxes was halfway across the room once more and he was back to mingling and making small talk, trying to include as many of the people here as he could, focusing on those he hadn’t yet spoken to and those he didn’t normally speak to while at actual Wizengamot meetings. Though he avoided a rather awkward looking Bill Weasley like he had bubonic plague.

A flash beside him and Harry sucked in a deep breath and he actively had to stop himself from bearing his teeth like a feral dog. He was going to come to hate these Ministry parties, with all the reporters and photographers floating around along with the Lords of Pureblood families, the Heads of all reputable Departments and the Minister for Magic along with his aide. It all just seemed to be an ego fest to him, a night of putting up with other people boasting, preening and showing off, and of childish cliques of who knew what Lord or politician and their little groupies who were all doing their best to have their photo taken with those higher than themselves. It was just ridiculous to him.

Lucius had, of course, taken the time to teach him the power and importance of a handshake, and of rejecting one, early on in his education last summer. He knew how to politely avoid a handshake, and how to outright ignore one if anyone was rude enough to insist upon it. A photo could boost dignity and prestige, but the wrong photo could destroy a reputation just as easily, if not easier. Which was why when Madam Wilkes, the frizzy haired cow who had voted against him in his trial in the summer between his fourth and fifth years, and had then tried to exclude him from a meeting because he had been sixteen and out of bed on a school night, came up to him and tried to strong arm him into a handshake for a photo, he quickly and effectively shut her down by twisting his hand and slipping it from her own.

 

“I will ask you not to grab and pull at me, thank you.” He said sternly, as if chastising a naughty child.

 

“That was terribly rude of you, not that _people_ like you can help it.” Lord Mark Flint, whom he’d been speaking to, sneered.

 

Harry had finally found some time to approach and speak to Marcus’ Father, and he had praised his son heavily, naturally, which had forged an immediate bond between them both, as Mark Flint was very proud of his only child’s illustrious runic career.

 

“Imagine grabbing and groping for the arm of an underaged Lord, what is wrong with you?” Lord Flint asked softly, almost hissing under his breath. “Except for being a disgusting little Mudblood, of course.”

 

Harry stiffened, but he felt caught between a rock and a hard place. He had been told to make nice with the other Lords, Lucius had specifically told him to be on his best behaviour. He was not to upset any other Lord during this party, while the reporters and photographers were watching and waiting for any sort of slip up or hint of a scandal. He certainly had no love for Madam Wilkes, but that word. _THAT_ _WORD_. He breathed deeply and evenly, as the silence between the three of them stretched on. He needed to do something, he turned himself slightly, dismissing the witch.

 

“You never said how your wife was doing.” He said politely, trying to behave himself, trying to get back onto more neutral ground so he didn’t kick off, but his temper had already been stoked by Madam Wilkes, of all people, trying to curry favourable press by grabbing at him for a photo. It had only risen when he’d heard that word.

 

“Dosie? She’s fine.” Mark waved away uncaringly. He obviously cared for his wife very little, going so far as to give her the nickname dozy, as she had the unfortunate name of Theodosia. She was the younger sister of Philip Nott, the aunt of Theo, for whom he had been named. “How is your Fiancée?”

 

“Aceline?” Harry said. “She’s fine too. She’s getting much better in recent months and I’m very proud of her achievements.”

 

Mark gave him a knowing look. Of course he knew that he was actually engaged to Rabastan Lestrange, if not from his son, Marcus’, own mouth then from the Death Eater meetings of which he most certainly attended. There was absolutely no doubt in Harry’s mind that the man he spoke to was also a Death Eater and he was good friends with Lucius and Xerxes to boot, so he knew exactly what he meant. That Rabastan was getting much better, and fitter, and would soon be back to fighting fit.

 

“I am glad to hear of such things. I hope that you both have a happy, fortuitous marriage.”

 

“Oh, I am sure that we will. We do get on very well, after all. It helps that we know what we each want from our marriage too.”

 

“Oh?” Lord Mark queried in a lilted question.  

 

Harry gave a genuine grin then. “Lots and lots of children.” Harry laughed.

 

Lord Mark chuckled too and shook his head ruefully. “I believe that being as young as you are will count for you too, you have the time and the energy to run around after lots of children. I do wish that Marcus would hurry up and get married already, but finding that bitch of his in bed with one of his work colleagues, well, it has damaged his pride and he is a very prideful man. You should have heard the rants when he was still in school and you and your merry band of Gryffindors kept besting him at Quidditch. In the end I was glad that he finally graduated so that I wouldn’t have to hear his howling about losing the Quidditch cup for yet another year.”

 

Harry gave a genuine laugh then, he couldn’t help himself.

 

“Oh, you may well laugh, you never had to listen to him go on about it for weeks afterwards. With every subsequent defeat, he would whine for longer than the previous year.”

 

“I can’t imagine him whining.” Harry said, thinking of Marcus. “He must let all his defences down at home, as I suppose we all do. Some of the things I do and say at home I wouldn’t even dream of doing if others were present. But Marcus, whining? It is not something I can picture, not when he calls me every name under the sun and then threatens me with bodily harm if I don’t get the work he gives me perfect.” 

 

Lord Mark gave a laugh. “Yes, that sounds like my Marcus.” He said in obvious pride. “He has half the community terrified of him, especially after the natural repercussions he gave to the bitch who hurt his pride, and the sleazebag who slept with her in his bed, in his home. I always warned him that she had the look of a whore about her, but he never listened.”

 

“A fault I believe my own Father would complain about regarding me.” Harry joked.

 

Lord Mark looked a little pensive, then he laughed. “Indeed. Perhaps it is the nature of sons to question the wisdom and advice of their Fathers, to push the boundaries that are given to them. Mostly to their own detriment.” Here Harry was given a warning look, but he just grinned sweetly. Lord Mark snorted in amusement. “Perhaps such lessons do have to be learnt by one’s self and cannot be taught. Marcus has learnt his own lesson. I believe he is now chasing after another potential wife, though he refuses to tell me who it is so that I, and I quote his very words, ‘I do not interfere and fuck things up’. Marcus has such a delicate way with words.”

 

Harry snorted. Absolutely nothing about Marcus Flint could ever be described as delicate. Lord Mark gave him a smile.

 

“I helped him to start the process to his new chosen wife.” Harry admitted. “He was unsure of her, but if this next engagement goes awry, I do believe the fault will lie with me this time.”

 

Lord Mark looked rather shocked for a fraction of a second, but he quickly pulled his face back to neutral. “So you know who she is? You helped him to set up an engagement?”

 

Harry nodded. “He already knew who he liked.” Harry insisted. “I just gave him a little push to encourage him to go after her. After all, if one falls from a horse, there is always a better, more stable horse in a different paddock. You just have to try them all until you find the right one, not give up after the first attempt.”

 

Lord Mark laughed then, a genuine laugh. “I don’t believe that that is how the adage goes.”

 

“It’s better.” Harry grinned.

 

“I can see now, after speaking to you at length, exactly why Marcus likes you so much.” Lord Mark told him consideringly. “I did not understand why he found you so agreeable, especially after all his childhood complaints of you, but now I understand. You are a very special young man.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry said, only able to speak because of Narcissa’s extensive lessons that had taught him to automatically respond to a compliment with gracious thanks.

 

“I cannot wait to see what you’ll do next.” Lord Mark carried on, scrutinising him. “You are tearing up everything in your wake, and only doing good things that will help everyone immensely.”

 

Harry took that to mean that Lord Flint was involved with finding ways to make it easier for Greyback to move and conduct his vile business without obstruction. He could count on this man to vote for his proposed law change, when he eventually got around to submitting it.

 

“I am trying. I’m currently writing my own proposals for law changes. I’ve been testing the waters a little here tonight, taking the opportunity conveniently presented to me.” He said happily. That was truly the only good thing to come from tonight, that he could spread his ideals and hint at his proposals to come to gauge reaction.

 

“I will be listening and waiting patiently for your coming proposals then.”

 

Shortly after that, Lord Mark was pulled into a different conversation with several other men and Harry went to find Lucius. He wanted to leave now. He’d had more than enough.

He finally found Lucius, of course he would have been over the other side of the room, so it took him a good twenty minutes to mingle and small talk his way across the room, and then he sidled under his Father’s arm and looked up at him pleadingly.

 

“Are you quite well?” Lucius asked him, for the sake of those he was stood with.

 

“I’m feeling a little off.” Harry said, playing his part well.

 

“You are not ill I hope, Lord Potter-Black.” Lord Harvey Greengrass said. Harry couldn’t work out if he was sincere or not.

 

“I do hope not.” Harry said plainly. “An illness on top of the advancing exams would be disastrous. I believe that I am just a little tired and in need of some quiet rest.”

 

“Then let me see you home.” Lucius said, touching his elbow and leading him away.

 

Harry had his photo taken several times on the way, so he made sure to keep his smile firmly fixed in place.

 

“I had believed that you’d come much sooner than you did.” Lucius told him. “I am proud of you for lasting as long as you did.”

 

Harry smiled at the praise. “I’m just a little tired now. Keeping a mask on and making small talk all night is very exhausting. There’s only so many times I can insist that I and my family are fine before I want to start inventing illnesses and injuries just to watch their faces drop.”

 

“Indeed. Come, let us see you safely to the manor.”

 

Harry was led over to the side of the atrium, where the banks of fireplaces were located, and Harry took a handful of floo powder.

 

“I will see you later.” Lucius told him, touching his shoulder and then covering him as Harry threw the powder into the fireplace and called out for Malfoy manor.

 

He landed rather heavily, and he struggled to keep his feet. He had to take several large steps in order to keep himself upright.

He sighed heavily and rubbed his face. He shook his head and then he perked up. He was home. He went straight to the drawing room and three faces looked up at him as he opened the door.

 

“You’re home early, are you alright, darling?” Narcissa asked him.

 

Harry forced himself to greet his mother, going to give her a hug and a kiss to the cheek.

 

“I’m fine, I just wanted to come home. As if I was going to stay all night when I could be here.” He said as he went straight to Rabastan and kissed him hard.

 

His Fiancé laughed happily and pulled Harry down onto his lap. Harry arranged his legs so that he wasn’t sitting obscenely, he was more likely to be allowed to remain where he was if he at least made a show of being chaste.

He threw his arms around Rabastan’s thick neck and nuzzled into his skin.

 

“I missed you. That stupid party was such a drag, but at least it gives me an excuse to stay with you, if only for one night.” He said, before laying a kiss on a vein that was standing out on Rabastan’s throat.

 

“Did you at least plant the seeds for your proposal?” Rabastan asked him.

 

“Of course. It was the entire reason I even went and stayed for longer than five minutes.” He grinned.

 

The topic did remind him to take out his proposal and hand it over to Rabastan, but Rodolphus took it instead, smoothening it out on his knee and reading. Harry huffed, but he went back to nuzzling with Rabastan.

 

“Is your Father alright?” Narcissa asked.

 

“He’s fine. He wanted to stay a little longer, but he saw me through the floo.”

 

“Good.” Narcissa insisted, settling her skirt about her knees and leaning back, picking up her book once more.

 

“Did you suffer any altercations?”

 

“Two. Your wonderful grandfather saved me from knocking out Lord Nott’s teeth and that lovely Muggleborn, Madam Wilkes, tried to grope for my hand to force a photo of us being agreeable. I was not willing to accept as such.”

 

“Uncouth mudbloods.” Rodolphus growled under his breath, not even looking up from the papers on his knee.

 

“Oh, I was not so subtly threatened too.” He added, trying to move the conversation away from _that_ word. It worked only too well.

 

“By who?” Rabastan demanded furiously, and this topic got Rodolphus’ attention and that dark brown gaze that promised pain and death was almost piercing as he looked at him, waiting for his answer.

 

“Your rather vile great Uncle, Corban Yaxley. He believes that I will meet my death very soon.”

 

“Did you tell your Father?” Narcissa asked dangerously, her own blue eyes glinting furiously.

 

“No, I didn’t want to do so at the party, just in case, but I will tell him tonight.” Harry insisted.

 

“I think I’ll pay him a visit.” Rodolphus said darkly. “I think he needs reminding that he has no son and no brothers. If he dies, his name dies with him.”

 

“Won’t it pass to his daughter’s son, if she has one?”

 

“No, don’t let Dawson Shacklebolt’s genial nature fool you. It is his older grandson who is married to Yaxley’s daughter, he will not allow the direct successor of his line to claim another Lordship, regardless that he has another grandson as a reserve.”

 

“Then it will pass to Rhadamanthus, as his nephew?” Harry questioned.

 

“Not if grandfather disallows it. He is the head of our house, if he does not disown Rhadamanthus, he cannot take anyone else’s name.”

 

Harry clocked the use of Rhadamanthus’ name, not the title of Father, and he made a mental note to ask Rabastan at a later time.

 

“So, between Xerxes and Dawson, they could make the Yaxley family extinct? Or at least only extant through the women born into the family, but married off?”

 

“Yes.” Rabastan said, looking at him proudly. “After he has threatened you too, well, I would say that grandfather would most definitely deny Rhadamanthus the Yaxley Lordship and Dawson Shacklebolt is very fond of you. Olivia is young too, and rather neglected by her Father, so she shines like the sun towards the kindness of her husband and grandfather-in-law. She was very happy to be matched to such a kind husband and family.”

 

“It wouldn’t be her decision anyway, but Dawson’s, as her child is in direct succession to his line.” Rodolphus added.

 

“Wouldn’t he do so just to control two Lordships?” Harry asked curiously.

 

“Not a lot of people want or need the pressures of two seats. It is why you are so extraordinary.” Narcissa told him primly, before crisply turning a page in her book.

 

“How are your family portfolios coming along?” Rabastan teased. Harry complained about the state of the Black and Potter portfolios in every single letter he sent to his Fiancé.

 

Harry groaned. “Do not get me started on those things. Every time I open the blasted folders something else requires fixing, or one of the investments needs handling, or I’m being asked to buy more shares or something else needs my approval. I swear I’m going to pick them all up and take huge pleasure in throwing them all into the fire and just watching them curl and burn.”

 

Rabastan chuckled and gave his cheek a kiss.

 

“With two seats, and two Lordships, comes a lot of hard work and expectations.” Rabastan told him. “It is a lot of work for anyone to handle, so to some, it is not worth taking on another’s responsibilities or their family members, especially dependant family members that need care or guardianship. It is better to allow the line to go extant only in females, or even extinct, than to miserably fail at holding two Lordships.”

 

Harry nodded. He understood. He really did. It was hard work to keep on top of all of his Lordship duties for two houses. The portfolios alone were enough to cause him to tear out his hair at the roots. He did not feel so bad now for accepting, and begging, for so much help all of the time, and he was just grateful that he had people that he could ask for such advice and assistance that was then readily given to him.

 

“How are you doing with your revision, Harry?” Rabastan asked him, pulling Harry closer to his body and shifting his leg. Harry took the indication for what it was and he stood up and switched legs, snuggling back into Rabastan, letting the blood flow resume to his, likely dead leg.

 

“Oh, that reminds me!” Harry said a bit too loudly and excitedly. Rodolphus looked up again at his outburst, waiting for whatever story was coming this time. With such excitement, it was going to be good. “The Minister was there, naturally, but the idiot tried to patronise me! He tried to imply that I should have been studying for my exams and not at a party and he tried to tell me how hard and exhausting my exams were going to be.”

 

“Now this is going to be good.” Rodolphus grinned. “What did you say in reply?”

 

“I implied that I was doing recreational reading, because seriously who the hell has time for that during exam season? But anyway, I implied that I was reading up on laws and regulations and I insinuated that I believed that more past cases had been mishandled. Oh you should have seen his stupid face! He went bright red and started blustering and stuttering, and I figuratively took his hand and led him through all my hoops, but a long story short, I’ve managed to get him to promise to hold a full investigative inquiry on all past cases over the abuse of the laws and regulations. The best part was, it was within hearing distance of several reporters, it’ll be in the papers tomorrow morning, he can’t go back on his word without looking like he had a hand in the abuse of the laws.”

 

The two brothers roared with laughter and Harry sat, grinning happily.

 

“I cannot wait to see that unfold. I bet our dear Minister is still thinking about your words, and exactly what you’ve forced him to agree to.” Rabastan insisted.

 

“You are getting much better at manipulating others.” Rodolphus pointed out.

 

“Only when needed.” Harry said placatingly. “I’ll use such whims sparingly, so as not to water down the effect.”

 

A hand pressed against his forehead, pulling his head back, pinning back his hair and he turned questioningly, only for a lingering kiss to be pressed to his forehead. The goofy smile was automatic and he held on tight to Rabastan, a man he was coming to love more than anything else.

 

“This is a good start.” Rodolphus cut in, uncaring that he’d just butted in on their little intimate moment. “This is the several times edited version?”

 

Harry nodded. “More like several dozen times edited, but yes. The last three paragraphs are new, though.”

 

Rodolphus nodded. “You’ve done well. I can’t see any immediate loopholes, but the more people you have to look over it, the higher the chance that they could see something that no one else can.”

 

Harry smiled. “I’m doing well with it. It won’t be ready until next year, I don’t think. I don’t want to rush it and get it wrong or have it fail through the voting process. It needs to be perfect!”

 

“With some help you could get it done before next year.” Rabastan insisted. “It will be perfect too, you’ll see.”

 

“I hope so.” Harry sighed. He shifted to the side, sitting on the settee, and he lay back, putting his head in Rabastan’s lap, frowning in thought. At least until those wondrous hands fell to his scalp and started scratching and pulling. He all but purred like a cat.

 

“I love when you do that.” Rabastan said. Harry could almost hear the smile in his voice.

 

“I was about to say the same thing.” He grinned, his eyes still closed contentedly.

 

“Have you been given your exam schedule yet?” Rodolphus asked.

 

“No, not yet. Though there are rumours that Potions is going to be the first exam up this year. I’m not sure how much stock to put into that, though.” Harry said. “I’m keeping to a good revision schedule though, and I’m sure that the workload in class is going to increase in the next week or so too, so I should be very well prepared.”

 

“I am glad to hear it.” Lucius said as he came into the room with a smirk, Xerxes just behind him.

 

“How are you, dear?” Narcissa asked, standing to graciously receive her husband, giving him a peck to the mouth in greeting.

 

“Very well, and you my darling?” He asked, looking her over as if expecting her to be injured.

 

“I have been well, though I believe that our Harry has something to tell you.”

 

“I do?” He questioned, opening his eyes to peer up at his Mother, then his brain caught up with him past the wonderful ministrations of Rabastan’s fingers. “Oh, that.”

 

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and sat himself down next to Narcissa. “Oh that, what?” He asked silkily.

 

Harry sighed and he sat up slowly, allowing Rabastan to pull back his hands. He instead leaned against him.

 

“I was threatened at the party.” He said with a sigh.

 

“By whom?” Xerxes growled furiously, one large hand clenching tight into a fist.

 

“Corban Yaxley.” Harry grimaced. “He insisted that I would meet my death very soon.”

 

“I’ll kill him.” Xerxes insisted immediately and firmly. Harry knew that it was no meaningless threat either, Xerxes would literally kill him. “This has Rhadamanthus written all over it. That little prick has been stirring trouble up all over, I won’t have my family threatened!”

 

Harry felt all warm inside at hearing that. To know that he was considered as a part of Xerxes’ family, but Rhadamanthus wasn’t.

He loved these people, he truly did, and they loved him. Of that there was no doubt. They wouldn’t have given a damn otherwise, but they did and it meant the absolute world to him. He held Rabastan closer, listening to Xerxes and Rodolphus describe the curses that they would use on Yaxley to ‘persuade him to change his mind’. He listened with a grin, chuckling now and then at a particularly inventive curse or obscure hex and he enjoyed the company while he had it, because when he did go back to Hogwarts tomorrow, his workload was going to be absolutely insane and then the exams would be upon him sooner rather than later and everything was going to be so chaotic and hectic, but as soon as all of that was over, he would be looking forward to an entire summer with Rabastan. It could not come soon enough.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- X

 

Harry was correct in his assumption that his work load would increase the closer to the exams that it got. At least he, however, was not suffering nearly as much as the rest of his year mates, who all seemed to be drowning under endless homework and study.

Harry had less homework, true, but he was packing in more study and revision to make up for it. He was not going to allow his illness ruin his education, he might be on a lighter workload, but he was going to have exactly the same exams to sit come the end of May.

He had become an almost permanent resident in the library. He was poring over books and all of his past notes, trying to force his brain to perfectly memorise the information as he tested Draco, as Draco tested Blaise, and Blaise tested Theo, who would then test Harry, in a large, circular conversation of questions and answers and rather high tempers and sharp words.

Harry had to set reminders to take his potions, to eat, even to get himself into bed so that he didn’t stay awake all night reading. Lucius at least had been right about how many books he had picked out…he had barely cracked open the cover of the first book that he’d chosen to read yet. He just didn’t have the time for recreational reading with all of the revision that he was packing into his day. Thankfully there would be plenty of time after his exams, while the younger years were taking their exams and the older students were left mostly to themselves, to recover from the burnout caused by the first year of their NEWT exams and the extensive revision they had all done in preparation for them.

During all of this revision and exam preparation, he had forgotten almost completely that he’d sent Kreacher to steal the sword of Gryffindor, so when the old, sagging elf came into his rooms late at night in early May, he very nearly gave Harry a heart attack.

 

“Kreacher, what is it?” He asked, one hand pressed to his chest in alarm.

 

“Kreacher has done as Master instructed. The sword is at Grimmauld Pla…”

 

“Well done, Kreacher!” Harry said happily, excitedly. “Remember to tell no one of this, okay?” Harry told him with a grin. “Go on, off you go. Make sure that no one finds the sword.”

 

Kreacher nodded, looking a little strangely at him for the praise, but he did as asked. As soon as he was gone, Harry was writing a quick note to Lucius, warning him that the house might be searched and he would explain in detail, in person. He wrote another note to Draco, as a precaution, as he might be searched too.

 

“Pimsey!” He called out a little desperately, hoping that she would come quickly. As soon as that sword was found missing, Dumbledore would come straight to him.

 

“Young Master called for Pimsey?” She asked curiously, even as she curtseyed to him.

 

“Take this directly to my Father and tell him that it is of the utmost urgency.” Harry said, handing the note to him. “Tell him that I’ll be in contact soon asking for him to come to the school, but to await my owl.” He said. “Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, young Master.” Pimsey curtseyed again and took the note from him and she was gone.

 

Harry breathed deeply. “Dobby!”

 

“Master Harry Potter, Sir calls for Dobby! Dobby is honoured, Sir.” The exuberant elf greeted him.

 

Harry smiled and settled Dobby down.

 

“I need you to take this note to Draco, okay? He won’t harm you, just give him the note and then leave, you don’t need to wait for him to reply, or for him to even say anything if you don’t wish to. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, Sir!”

 

“Not a word of this to anyone, Dobby, do you hear me?”

 

“Yes, Master Harry Potter, Sir.”

 

Harry nodded and handed over the hastily scrawled note to Dobby and sent him off. He then sat back and he laughed. He calmed himself and then let the feelings of accomplishment wash over him. He had his bargaining chip, he had the information on the Horcruxes and possibly what they were, now he just needed a good enough reason to use it.

He went back to his revision and he waited, acting as natural as possible, trying not to let his heart hammer a tunnel through his ribcage. He calmed down a little the longer it went without anyone blasting down his door and he was able to regain control of himself and carry on with his revision. He couldn’t believe that his idea to use Kreacher to steal the sword had actually worked. Now the sword was safely hidden in Grimmauld Place and his plan had actually worked. He truly couldn’t believe his luck.

At eleven at night, he had put things off as much as he could, so he started getting himself ready for bed. He took his nutrient potion as usual and he settled himself into bed. Even if anyone did come asking him questions now, he would be in no state to answer them.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Albus felt old and weary, he had come to his office and he had seen immediately that the sword of Gryffindor was gone. He had asked the portraits, he had asked the elf who had cleaned his office, but he had no luck with them. The portraits hadn’t heard anything, they hadn’t seen anything. The elf insisted that the sword had been there when it had cleaned the office, as it had buffed the pedestal that the sword was kept on.

He had gently probed into the elf’s memories and it was telling the truth, it had buffed the pedestal and the sword was there. It had gone missing between nine in the night, when the elf had cleaned his office, and half past ten at night, when he had come back to his office.

He had called Severus and Minerva to his office and he’d informed them of what had happened and he watched their faces as they considered who could have done such a thing.

 

“I don’t understand, Albus, who would have wanted it? Who would have done this?” Minerva asked.

 

Albus sighed tiredly as his mind once again went to the one person who might have done this. Harry Potter’s face came to mind. Harry who would know where the sword was, who was one of the small number of people who had been to the office since the sword had been displayed. Indeed on their last meeting he had indicated towards it and he’d told the boy that it was one of the treasures that Voldemort would be hunting…perhaps he had let slip to young Draco, who had told his Father, who had then gotten orders for Harry to take it. Harry did still have his invisibility cloak, no one would have seen him.

 

“I fear that it was Harry who has taken it.”

 

“Potter?” Minerva gasped. “He might have had an attitude shift in the last year, Albus, but he would never have done this!” She said sternly.

 

“I agree with Minerva.” Severus said silkily. “Potter has been better behaved this year than any of his previous years. He has done nothing to warrant suspicion and he has not been meddling or poking around in things that aren’t his business this year.”

 

“Harry is the only one who comes to mind.” Albus said. “I must speak with him and see.”

 

“It is half past eleven at night, Albus!” Minerva said shocked. “Potter is not a well boy, he needs to sleep and rest.”

 

“Surely it can wait for the morning.” Severus added.

 

“He will have had time to hide the sword if he has taken it if we wait. It needs to be now.”

 

He left his office, aware that Minerva and Severus were following him.

 

“You cannot be serious, Albus! Potter needs his sleep.” Minerva said sternly, hurrying along beside him.

 

“It has to be now.” He repeated more firmly.

 

Harry’s private rooms were on the fourth floor, so he had plenty of time to think about what he was going to say, and to convince his mind that it was Harry who had taken the sword, and for him to convince Severus and Minerva that he was not going to change his mind about waking up Harry at nearly midnight on a school night.

He stopped in front of the portrait guarding Harry’s rooms and he started knocking, gently at first and then getting louder and louder as it went longer without the door opening.

 

“He is asleep.” Minerva told him furiously. “We still don’t know what he’s taking or for what ailment, for all we know he could be on sleeping potions!”

 

Albus didn’t reply, instead he knocked harder. The three of them heard a clatter and a groan from inside the room and then the door was opened to reveal the dishevelled form of Harry Potter, who looked dreadful with his hair plastered to his head as if he had taken a shower and his sleeping shirt plastered to his front, wet marks visible through the material.

Dazed and confused looking, Harry swiped his dripping face with his arm and peered blearily at them through his wonky, hastily put on glasses.

 

“‘Fessor?” He slurred. “S’matter? Did I ove’sleep?”

 

“You have not overslept, Potter. It is almost midnight.” Minerva told him rather gently, visibly shocked and concerned at his appearance and demeanour.

 

Harry blinked at them, they could almost see his mind trying to make sense of the words. He even mouthed them slightly.

 

“Has some…something happened?” He asked. “Draco?”

 

“Nothing has happened to young Mister Malfoy.” Severus told him.

 

“May we come in, Harry?” Albus asked.

 

They watched as Harry forced himself to understand the words, the effort almost passing like physical pain over his face.

 

“Yes. Yes, ‘course.” Harry said and he pushed open the door and let them in.

 

They watched as he stumbled and wobbled his way to his two settees, set opposite one another with a coffee table between them. There were stacks of parchment, folders and books all over the coffee table.

 

“Here, sit down, Potter.” Minerva said concernedly as Harry led them to the settees.

 

Harry almost fell into the seat and he actually grunted. It was as he was sat down that they noticed that his body was shaking, almost violently enough to be called convulsing.

 

“You are feverish, Potter, do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” Minerva asked as she sat beside him, able to feel the heat coming from him, even at a distance.

 

Harry shook his head. “No. No ‘Fessor, this is…its normal after ‘fect of…of…”

 

“Of one of the potions that you’re on?” Minerva finished for him as Harry struggled to string a sentence together.

 

“We are sorry to wake you up at such a late hour, but it was necessary.” Albus started, then became aware that both Minerva and Severus turned to glare at him.

 

“Are…are Mother, Father okay?” He asked.

 

“They’re fine, Potter.” Severus told him. “This is about something entirely different.”

 

“The sword of Gryffindor has gone missing from my office this evening.” Albus said, then he watched Harry’s reaction closely.

 

It took a moment for the words to sink in, then Harry’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

 

“Who…who would want that?” He asked with a frown.

 

“You remember where it was?”

 

“‘Course, sir. On the top shelf of your office, next to the Sorting Hat. Saw it…it when we were having those meetings.”

 

“The case was enchanted, but still someone managed to take it.”

 

Albus watched as Harry’s confused face wrinkled as he mumbled under his breath, trying to figure out what was being said. Then dawning understand blossomed, then his eyes widened.

 

“Me!” He said in a voice that actually broke, like a young boy going through puberty. “You think it was me?! Why would I…I take it?!” He demanded, trying to come across as indignant, but falling rather short as his voice wavered, his hands shook and a bead of sweat rolled down from his forehead into his eye, making him squint.

 

He swiped angrily at his forehead, but the sweat that he had removed with his sleeve was immediately replaced with more droplets that rolled down his face.

 

“Do you need a drink, Potter?” Minerva asked him gently.

 

Harry frowned some more, his mind obviously not dealing well with the abrupt change of conversation.

 

“Tea, I should have offered you all tea!” He said frantically, going to stand back up.

 

“No one wants tea, Potter.” Severus snapped, taking out his wand and turning a scrap piece of parchment on the table into a glass and then, with a simple spell, he conjured a jet of clear water from his wand tip into the glass before handing it over.

 

“Mother would be…be furious at my lack of manners.” Harry said before he gulped the water, trying desperately not to spill it as his shaking hand threatened to throw the water all over himself.

 

“I am sure that she would be more concerned with your delicate health.” Severus insisted.

 

“We do not think that you have the sword, we are merely asking if you have seen it or know of who would want it.” Dumbledore said, getting Harry back onto the train of thought of the sword.

 

Again Albus got glares from the other two Professors, but Harry nodded, as if it made complete sense.

 

“I don’t know why…why anyone would want…want…” Harry stopped speaking, frowning. “Want a manky old sword.” He finally finished. “It’s not like wizards walk with them…them on their hips any more. They’re not even allowed in duels anymore, Draco was telling me.”

 

“When did Draco tell you as such?” Albus persisted.

 

“In…October.” Harry managed to get out. “Hallo…Halloween. He was telling me ‘bout traditions of duelling on Halloween. He said that duelling used to include swords.”

 

“May we search your rooms?”

 

“‘Course!” Harry agreed immediately, then he frowned as he realised what was being said. “You said I wasn’t…wasn’t a suspect!” He accused.

 

“It’s just precautionary, Harry. Nothing to worry about.” He said jovially, but his suspicions had lessened since he had arrived here. His mind had already jumped to others who might have taken the sword instead.

 

Harry wasn’t in any fit state to hold a conversation, he was confused and dazed, if he had taken the sword, then he would have blurted something out by accident by now, or he would have thought of it, but his forefront thoughts were as jumbled as his speech. He was thinking mostly about homework and revision, what he had obviously been doing before he’d gone to sleep from the stacks of notes and revision work on the coffee table. Then he would think of Lucius and Narcissa, then Draco, then Remus, then his mind would wander to his bed. It did that often. The poor boy was clearly exhausted and in need of sleep.

A quick summoning spell with his wand and nothing even moved in Harry’s neat and tidy rooms, a revealing spell (just in case Harry had put an anti-summoning charm upon the sword) showed absolutely nothing and a trace showed that the sword had never been in these rooms before. He sighed wearily.

 

“Are you satisfied now?” Minerva demanded of him as she all but held up the clearly unwell boy.

 

“I apologise for waking you up, dear boy.”

 

“‘So…‘sokay.” Harry murmured softly, his eyes fluttering against his control as he jerked himself more upright in an attempt to keep his body awake. “You…you had to be sure.” He slurred. “Hope you find…find it soon and catch who took…took it.”

 

“Oh, I am sure that I will. Are you quite alright, Harry?”

 

Harry blinked at him and swiped his forehead yet again, the fourth time within as many minutes.

 

“Yes, sir. This is normal for…for the nutrient potion.” He said.

 

Albus almost smiled triumphantly as he broke a part of the puzzle that had been bothering him for a while now.

 

“You are on others too?” He queried.

 

He had hoped for Harry to tell him the other potions, there was at least one more than he knew of, as he had seen Harry taking two different potions, one with his breakfast and one at lunch, but he didn’t know if the potion affecting him now was a different one, or one of the two that he had seen Harry take, but Harry just nodded, then his eyes fluttered again and Minerva had had enough.

 

“This has gone on long enough, Albus.” She said. “Potter is clearly unwell and in need of rest!”

 

He nodded unhappily. Harry was much more open at the moment than he’d been all year, but he couldn’t be seen to be keeping a clearly ill student out of bed when he’d resolved the reason he had been here in the first place.

 

“Yes, we shall leave you now, Harry.” He said happily.

 

“I’ll get you tea.” Harry said in a slur, making to stand up again.

 

“No, Potter, we’re leaving.” Minerva told him. “You are to go to bed.”

 

“Bed, ‘Fessor?” He asked. “Is it not morning?”

 

“No, Potter…Harry.” Minerva said as gently as she could. “It is still night time, you are to go back to bed.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” He agreed with no fuss.

 

They watched him stumble and wobble his way to a door in the back wall that led to his bedroom and the three Professors stayed stunned for a moment, rooted to the spot, while things went quiet and calm in the rooms.

 

“We had best leave.” Albus said as he turned to the door and preceded the other two out of the rooms.

 

Severus was the last one out of the rooms and he turned his back to the other two to close the door and he couldn’t help but give a smirk as he took a moment for himself before he closed the door. Potter really was far too clever under the influence of the Malfoys. He was most definitely a force to be reckoned with.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry heard the door to his rooms shut and he peeked around the door into his living room. Seeing it empty he threw his head back and he laughed.

He walked back out and sat on his settee and moved around his notes and revision work. That had gone so much better than he’d planned. He hadn’t expected McGonagall or Snape to come and interrogate him as well, though to be fair they didn’t seem to have liked the idea of waking up poor, severely sick Potter, either.

He had fooled them, bar Snape, completely. Though Snape would have known immediately that he was playing a part, because he would have known exactly what side effects the nutrient potion would have and bumbling around like a fool wasn’t one of them.

He grinned, incredibly self-satisfied with himself as he took a moment to gloat to himself about how well that had gone. He had seen straight away when he’d opened the door that he was the number one suspect, but the further into the ‘discussion’ it had gotten he had actually seen Dumbledore trying to work out who else might have been able to steal the sword, or who else might have wanted to steal the sword.

Now to make things convincing, and because he was not going to be able to sleep with the night sweats now that he was actually awake, he was going to pull an all-nighter, or as much of an all-nighter as he could. He might go back and get a few hours’ sleep in the early hours, but he knew that it wouldn’t be enough and that was what he was counting on.

He summoned one of his new books that he’d barely had a minute to read since he’d bought it and he opened it to where he’d left off, several pages into chapter two, and he started reading again, feeling sweat slick up his legs and back unpleasantly as his fever raged on. He was going to need a quick rinse off before he tried to go back to sleep. Not that it would do much good as the sweat he’d get rid of would be back again within several minutes, but hopefully that would be enough time for him to get back to sleep.

At four in the morning he’d had a quick, cool shower and he was back in bed. He was so tired that he did actually manage to fall asleep before the sweating started again. A major plus in his grand scheme of things as he did actually want a few hours of sleep, and that was what he got.

He was woken up when Draco came bursting through his bedroom door and shook him awake.

 

“Harry, what is going on?” Draco asked him as Harry blearily opened his eyes.

 

“Uh?”

 

Harry groped his bedside table for his glasses and prodded them onto his nose.

 

“Time’s it?” He asked sleepily as he felt half dead and like he hadn’t gotten a single moment of sleep.

 

“It’s almost quarter to nine.” Draco said urgently. “Lessons start in fifteen minutes, you haven’t eaten, you haven’t showered. Come on!”

 

Harry cursed and sat up, threw off the covers and he went into his bathroom for the quickest shower in history as Draco set out his uniform for him.

 

“I brought you some toast, hurry up so you can eat something!” Draco shouted through the door.

 

Harry jumped out of the shower and a quick spell had him dry again. He pulled on the boxer-briefs he’d taken into the bathroom with him, before going out into his bedroom and he forced his sluggish limbs into his uniform and took the toast from Draco, eating it in several huge bites and swallowing it painfully as Draco did his tie for him and fixed his collar.

He got a glass of pumpkin juice to take his potion with instead of his usual morning tea.

 

“What is going on?” Draco asked him again. “What was that note you sent me about? Why have you slept so late?”

 

“Dumbledore came interrogating me at midnight last night, he woke me up and I couldn’t sleep afterwards with the night sweats.”

 

“What did he want?” Draco demanded furiously as he watched Harry throw back the potion and then drain his juice.

 

“The sword of Gryffindor has gone missing and he blamed me!”

 

“Did you take it?” Draco asked him seriously.

 

“Of course I didn’t take it!” Harry insisted. “I was revising all bloody night, I took my nutrient potion and I went to sleep. I had Kreacher take it for me. I’m writing to Father, there’s no way he can do such a thing.”

 

Draco just stared at him. “Why would you even want it?” He demanded in a hiss.

 

“That, I’m afraid, is of no importance to you. I’ll tell you what I’ve done with it afterwards, just know it’ll be used to protect our family. I needed it as a bargaining chip.”

 

“Against who?” Draco asked him.

 

Harry shook his head and picked up his book satchel. “You would rather not know, Draco. Like I didn’t tell you about Greyback. You don’t need to know this. Come on.”

 

Harry forced his feet into his shoes, took the apple that Draco gave him and bit into it, hurrying after his brother to their first lesson. They were already late, though by an incredible stroke of luck they had Transfiguration first.

They walked in almost fifteen minutes late and Harry didn’t even need to do anything to make himself look tired or sluggish, because he _was_ tired and sluggish. Today was going to be incredibly long and exhausting, almost as bad as the Wizengamot party itself, though putting up with the aftermath of that…all the articles on him, the magazines that had scrutinised everything he was wearing, to how he wore his hair and how bright his smile was, then there were the newspaper opinions of everyone he had met, who he had shaken hands with or exchanged words with, but more importantly, who he hadn’t shaken hands with or spoken to. His handshake and chat with the Minister had been front page news. Then there were the other students to deal with too, asking him to sign their cut out pictures of him, thrusting pages of himself smiling and looking so good in his dress robes from Witch Weekly. It took every ounce of willpower not to snatch the pictures and tear them up. He ignored anyone who dared ask for an autograph and he just shooed away the other students impatiently.

 

“I’m so sorry, Professor, I didn’t wake up in time and Draco had to drag me out of bed. We do apologise for being so late.”

 

“Take your seats, the both of you.” Professor McGonagall told them with no fuss or fanfare. She actually looked rather concerned herself. Harry’s little over exaggeration had worked a treat and he had successfully removed the suspicion from himself. Now he just needed to keep it that way.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

It was more difficult to pretend that he was innocent when he actually wasn’t. He was watched closely, so very closely. He tried to carry on as normally as he possibly could, but sometimes he would feel the weight of a heavy, assessing gaze upon him and he would know that he was once again being scrutinised. It was clear to him that none of Dumbledore’s other ‘suspects’ had panned out either, of course not, he was the actual culprit, or rather Kreacher was, but still. It was very unnerving.

He carried on with his lessons as normal, acting as if the missing sword gave him absolutely no trouble and like he gave no thought to it after the little night time visit. He spent time with Draco, Blaise, Theo, Astoria and Luna. He avoided Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Neville too. Poor Neville who was always sat on his own and always trying to hail him to talk to him. Neville whose parents were lying in hospital beds on a closed ward, and would always remain so, thanks to the man that Harry loved more than anyone else.

He didn’t often think of the things that Rabastan had done in his youth, of what had landed him in Azkaban in the first place, and led to the state of decrepitude that he was slowly healing from, but when he did, it was always with a heavy heart and a complete lack of understanding. He couldn’t see the man he loved and match him with his actions of the past. So in a way, he was willingly and deliberately misconstruing the personality of Rabastan, because he didn’t really want to think on it. He didn’t want to think of Rabastan standing over Frank and Alice Longbottom, torturing them gleefully with his brother, associate, and sister-in-law on the merest whim, on the false, hinted rumour that they knew where Voldemort was after his failed attack on Harry himself.

So he avoided poor Neville and quickened his steps if he saw him or heard him calling out to him from behind. The one time he had been cornered, he had brusquely excused himself and insisted that he had no time to talk as he had pressing matters to attend to. He felt so much guilt in shutting Neville down in this manner, but what else was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to hurt Neville, but the hurt of being brushed off now would seem insignificant to the hurt that Neville would feel when it emerged that Harry was going to be married to Rabastan Lestrange, one of his parents’ attackers. That hurt would be significantly higher if Harry pretended now to be his friend and confidant and it would be accompanied by a huge sense of betrayal too, that he, Harry, had known that he would be married to Rabastan, that he was actually willing to marry him still and was deeply in love with him, that he had known what Rabastan had done, yet he still smiled brightly and gave advice and help and a comforting friendship to Neville. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it, he was not so cruel and callous as to force Neville to like him, to be his friend, only to betray him in such a heartless manner later. No, this was most definitely for the best. Neville would get the hint soon enough, then one day, it would all become clear to him why Harry had abandoned him when he had done nothing wrong, when he had only been trying to help and had been trying to stop the other members of Gryffindor from stealing his belongings once more, as Harry was not naïve enough to believe that he could keep his chosen husband a secret forever. He was not so naïve that he believed that he _would_ have to keep him a secret forever, because one day Voldemort would come out of the shadows and all his convicted Death Eaters would be free to walk around in public, given a full pardon for their past crimes and they would all be allowed to pursue their lives henceforth. Which meant that Harry’s marriage to Rabastan would become public knowledge. He was not ashamed of his love. He was not ashamed of Rabastan, who was not the arrogant boy who had gone into Azkaban, because that place had changed him. It had ripped the very core from him, reshaped it, tore it apart over and over, for fifteen long, agonising years. Rabastan was not the same person, but that did not excuse his past behaviours, though Harry believed fully that Rabastan, and Rodolphus, had both paid their dues. He believed that all people deserved a second chance, a clean slate in which to start again. Was he so naïve as to believe that they would never do it all again if ordered from them? No. But he did believe that they would not do as such for mere fun, or take such pleasure in their actions this time around, not like when they’d been young, handsome, arrogant boys.

Azkaban had stripped them of all of that. Of their youth and health, of their good-looks and tight, muscular bodies, of their arrogance and haughtiness. They were no longer so cocky or reckless. They now understood the value of patience, of planning, and it made them all the more dangerous and effective. He did not want to see the day when they were declared fit and healthy enough to actively take part in Voldemort’s vile assassinations and missions once more, but the day was fast approaching as they both made leaps and bounds in their recoveries. He knew better than to even ask Rabastan to not take part, not only would he get a flat out refusal, which would hurt him and their relationship, but it would also endanger Rabastan’s life if he ever did refuse Voldemort’s orders. He had known fully what he was getting himself into, he had known who Rabastan Lestrange was and what he had done before he’d met him for the first time, he had no leg to stand on in this issue, as he had accepted Rabastan regardless. He could not now try to change him.

He was almost glad of the distraction that came in the form of the last round of Quidditch matches. Today Hufflepuff played Slytherin, giving the students some much needed relief from the loom of the approaching exams. It was almost like the calm before the storm. Next week, Gryffindor played Ravenclaw in the last match of the year, deciding the Quidditch cup winners, right before the exams struck the older years, starting with the sixth and seventh years taking their NEWTs in the last week of May, then progressing down to the fifth years taking their OWLs and the fourth years preparing for their OWLs in the first week of June, then to the three younger years, whose exams were held in separate classrooms in the second week of June. The week after that would be the end of term, Harry was counting down the days anxiously.

He was sat, watching as Draco and Blaise played against Hufflepuff, green against yellow. Astoria was to one side of him, Theo to the other, and all three of them were cheering, wearing Slytherin colours. It was no longer cold enough to wear hats or scarves, so Harry had borrowed (without asking) one of Draco’s robes and ties. The nice green and silver combination really brought out his eyes. Astoria had already wrangled a photo of him wearing it.

 

“I hate watching as a spectator.” Harry complained as he tried not to shout out encouragement from the stands. He wouldn’t be heard anyway, not with the speed at which everyone was travelling. He never heard the crowd when he played either, only bits and fragments when he stopped for a moment to scout out the snitch.

 

“You’re a side line player.” Theo teased. Harry took that saying as the equivalent of being a back seat driver and he nodded.

 

“I can’t help it, I want to scream at them to move, or to pass, or I want to grab Draco’s head and turn it forcibly to where the snitch is just hovering, right there!” He huffed, pointing to where he could see the fluttering glint of gold that neither Seeker had spotted yet. “I’d have had this game won and over with by now and we’d all be back to revising.”

 

“Maybe that’s not such a good thing.” Theo laughed. “We need this one morning to just wind down a little.”

 

Harry chuckled and nodded his head in understanding. “Perhaps, but I have to play next week, just a week before the exams. I think we’ll all be begging for a short match then. I hope it doesn’t last longer than an hour, it will completely mess up my revision schedule.”

 

Theo snorted, but he said nothing about it. Likely because it was true. None of them would want a dragged out match just a week before their exams started.

Three players zoomed right over their heads and Astoria ducked down quickly, on principle, and it was automatic for Harry, a completely natural response, to put an arm out over her, just in case. It was not uncommon for spectators to be injured at Quidditch matches, either by the players, an off course Bludger, a misthrown Quaffle, or even other items, such as a Beater letting go of their bat or even a shoe or broken bits of broomstick. It was always better to be safe and to take precautions when watching a match.

The game progressed, with Slytherin and Hufflepuff being particularly evenly matched. Blaise was doing well to score so many goals, but he seemed to be the only one on the attack. Urquhart, the Slytherin captain, was screaming himself hoarse at fellow Chaser, Vaisey, but still he was more drifting lazily around rather than taking part in the match. It came as no surprise to Harry when five minutes later Urquhart called for a time out and substituted the distracted Vaisey.

Hufflepuff had a new game play too, a new form of attack, and not two minutes into play after the time out, Blaise was knocked from his broom by a well-placed Bludger. He toppled to the grass below and he did not move. It took every ounce of self-control for Harry not to scream or immediately rush to him. Beside him Astoria gasped and Theo sucked in a deep breath.

 

“He’ll be alright.” Harry insisted, reassuring them both. “It wasn’t a high fall, he’ll be taken to the hospital wing and we will collect Draco and go and see him after the match. Then we can spoil him with attention and sweets.”

 

“He’s not moving.” Astoria fretted.

 

“He is likely to be unconscious, which is a blessing if he has any broken bones, but look, the assistants are coming to get him now.” He pointed out the two seventh years who would be thinking of becoming Healers. They would help out in the hospital wing and learn a few basics from Madam Pomfrey to test themselves a little. There were always a few willing to help injured Quidditch players to the hospital wing during the matches.

 

Blaise was taken away, but Slytherin were shaken, and with the re-introduction of Vaisey to the pitch to replace Blaise, things went from bad to worse. They could see Urquhart shouting, getting redder in the face as Vaisey and the substitute failed to pick up the slack left by Blaise’s absence. It was a very large absence too, as he had scored eighty percent of Slytherin’s goals, and without him, it left just Urquhart as the only other goal scorer.

None of the team could really concentrate after Blaise’s injuries, knowing that he was in the hospital wing, so it came as no surprise when Hufflepuff started scoring more and more, catching up to Slytherin, denting the gap that Blaise had worked so hard to give his team.

It took just fifteen minutes for Hufflepuff to catch up and then surpass Slytherin in points, Draco seemed entirely distracted too, likely thinking about poor Blaise, but Harry willed him to push it from his mind momentarily, to put it aside until after the match. Blaise would be fine, Harry had been through enough injuries while at Hogwarts to know that Madam Pomfrey could work miracles. Blaise was in good hands.

When it seemed like Slytherin would actually lose this match, and they had fallen eighty points behind Hufflepuff, Draco suddenly soared off to the one side. It took Harry a moment to locate the snitch, dancing in front of Draco’s outstretched fingertips. He was on his feet, jumping and cheering for him as Hufflepuff’s Seeker tried to catch up, as their Beaters tried to take out Draco before he caught the golden snitch, but they failed and a moment later Draco was pulling up, the small, walnut sized ball clutched tight in his fist. Slytherin had won…barely, by the smallest of margins, but still, they had won.

The three of them spent a few minutes celebrating, as the Slytherin team celebrated their win, then the crowds started dispersing. Harry, Theo and Astoria went down to the pitch, instead of going back to the castle, so that they could wait for Draco.

He came out rather quickly, his broom over his shoulder. He didn’t say much, but he did greet Astoria with a quick, chaste kiss. He took her hand in his own, the one that wasn’t holding his broom. The four of them made their way to the hospital wing in worried silence.

They needn’t have bothered, Blaise was sat up in bed and he had chocolate and sweet tea in front of him on a tray.

 

“Did we win?” Was the very first thing he asked when he noticed them enter, his face serious and ardent.  

 

“We won.” Draco said reassuringly, and Blaise exhaled deeply in relief. “Just barely, everything went to pot when we lost you, Urquhart had to bring Vaisey back on.”

 

“Why was he so distracted?” Harry asked.

 

Astoria snorted inelegantly. “A girl he was seeing is pregnant. His Father has promised that if the baby is his, he’ll be forced to marry her and he doesn’t like her _that_ much. He much prefers his betrothed, but she insists on remaining untouched until she’s married, yet she’s a terrible flirt and tease, so he takes his… _pleasures_ elsewhere. He must have gotten careless. He is praying that that baby isn’t his, so that he can keep his betrothal with the woman he prefers, and not be forced to marry a girl he was just using.”

 

Harry imagined Rabastan sleeping with someone else while they were engaged and his blood boiled hot. The very thought of Rabastan insulting and disrespecting him while being tied and committed to him made him want to rage.

 

“She actually still wants him after this?” Harry demanded.

 

“It’s a common practice.” Blaise explained from his bed. “A man will take his pleasures elsewhere and his intended will look the other way until they are married.”

 

“Yet she will be expected to remain a virgin, like I am?” He seethed.

 

“That’s right.” Draco said easily, not understanding.

 

“That’s bullshit.” Harry burst out. He startled the other three, who all turned to look at him.

 

“What is it? Are you alright?” Draco asked.

 

“No I’m not!” Harry raged. “What sort of male orientated privilege are you sprouting? Why does the woman of the marriage, or the bearer in my case, have to remain a virgin? Yet their partner can just swan off and fuck who he wants, but it’s okay as long as he doesn’t get anyone pregnant!”

 

“It’s only enforced in a small percentage of cases, Harry.” Astoria told him gently, laying a soft hand on his arm. “In modern day it is overlooked if the ‘bride’ isn’t a virgin. Only very few people actually insist that they are in a formal contract. The practice is dying out.”

 

Harry breathed angrily, almost wheezing like a wounded rhino.

 

“That anyone still insists upon it is a disgrace! It should be a fucking choice!”

 

“What makes you think that just because a woman is a virgin that she doesn’t have a choice?” Astoria demanded. “I’m still a virgin and I have chosen to remain so. That was my choice.”

 

Harry breathed to calm himself. “Was it insisted of you?”

 

“Have you met my sister?” Astoria said cattily. “Do you think that we would have had separate contracts? It was not insisted of me, but I have chosen to remain as such regardless. You shouldn’t stereotype people, Harry. Just because they are virgins, does not mean it is being forced from them.”

 

“I think you’re misunderstanding, Astoria.” Draco said gently. “He isn’t having a go at anyone who’s a virgin or has chosen to remain so, he’s a virgin himself and has chosen to remain so until his wedding night, he’s talking about those who are forced to remain as virgins until they are married, about the gender inequality between men and women, where a woman is forced to remain chaste and untouched, yet her intended partner can do as he pleases with whomever and father children on them.”

 

Harry nodded tightly. “I was forced by the Lestranges to remain pure. They even tested me with Veritaserum to make sure that I hadn’t so much as touched anyone else.” He said.

 

The other three looked a bit uncomfortable at hearing that.

 

“They are an ancient Pureblooded line and they’re big on tradition.” Draco tried to insist.

 

“I don’t care. It should be my choice. If I _ever_ found out that Rabastan was having sex while he and his family are insisting so much on my purity, I would break our engagement in a heartbeat. If he can be so unthinking, so uncaring and callous towards me, I don’t want to be married to him.” He said seriously.

 

“I don’t think he would be having sex with anyone else.” Draco told him. “He’s focusing so much on his recovery and he loves you so much. He’s utterly devoted to you.”

 

Harry nodded. It was true enough and he had no doubts of Rabastan’s fidelity, but he didn’t know if it was through his love for him, or if it was merely lack of opportunity. He was going to drive himself mad if he carried on thinking such things, so he pushed it aside.

 

“How are you really, Blaise?” He asked abruptly, but sincerely.

 

“Fine, I never even broke anything, I just hit my head on the ground when I fell. I’m being kept here overnight just for observation as I probably have a concussion, but once I regained consciousness, the danger went down.”

 

“I’m glad.” Harry smiled, laying a hand over Blaise’s covered knee. He was still wearing his Quidditch robes. “Do you want some things if you’re staying here overnight? Pyjamas, a book, perhaps a favourite teddy bear?”

 

Blaise laughed. “Just the pyjamas and some revision work, leave the teddy on my pillow, he doesn’t like being moved.”

 

It was a huge relief hearing Blaise joking around as normal, to hear that he was going to be fine and released from the hospital wing tomorrow morning. Quidditch injuries could be very nasty and rather serious, but it was a miracle that Blaise had escaped without any broken bones and nothing more than a concussion and likely a few bruises. Where the Bludger had struck him was going to be particularly painful, not to mention colourful, when the bruise came through.

They stayed with Blaise until Madam Pomfrey shooed them out, saying that Blaise needed his rest, but Draco did go back a little later, with Blaise’s book bag that contained a pair of pyjamas, a change of underwear, the requested revision work, and a few sneaky sweets hidden in the bottom with a glass bottle of pumpkin juice.

Harry said his goodbyes to his brother and to Astoria and he went back to his own rooms, leaving Draco and Astoria to spend a bit of time together on their own for the afternoon. He knew exactly how awful it was to constantly have a chaperone, so he refused to put the two through as such. If Astoria was steadfast in her choice of remaining as a virgin until her wedding night, then they didn’t even need a chaperone, so it was a waste of his time. Unlike with everyone else when he was with Rabastan, he didn’t care about the two having a good snog together.

Instead, he got some of his revision work out, made himself a cup of tea, and he settled down in perfect peace to do some work on his own, sat on the floor against the settee at the coffee table. He tried not to recall the memory of the recent conversation. He would not doubt Rabastan’s love, and he wouldn’t protest the clause in his contract that insisted that he remain a virgin for his wedding night. There was no one else he would have wanted to sleep with, no one else he would have given it to, and once he had entered into a contract, into a relationship, he would never have been so disrespectful as to sleep around, as he wouldn’t have if he had not been a virgin upon the signing of his contract. Either way he would not have had sex with anyone else while in a relationship, so he would not protest, but he did think it highly unfair for the partner who would fall pregnant in the marriage to be held to such standards when the other partner wasn’t.  

He breathed deeply to calm himself and he went back to his revision. He had far too much going on to fret about the unfair terms of his contract now. He should have done that last summer if he had had any true trouble with the enforced clause, but again, last summer he had had a lot going on and everything was a lot newer back then. He had struggled just to keep his head above the water, what with learning to live with the Malfoys, clashing with Draco, learning a whole new set of behaviours, of expectations and punishments. Then there was learning to look after his Lordships, the family portfolios, the duties to the Wizengamot, learning how to speak in those meetings so as not to look a fool. It was a lot of work, a lot of duties to uphold, but now he was more on an even footing, it was too late. He and Rabastan were now engaged, their wedding day had been set. It was too late to bitch about the terms of their contract and though he had agreed to the Veritaserum test, because he had known that he was still ‘pure’ as Rodolphus had phrased it, he still couldn’t help but remember Xerxes’ look of relief, as if the other man had expected him to fail.

Harry sighed and tried to push that from his mind too. He was much too distracted it seemed, he’d never get any revision, or any of his homework, done at this rate. It did not help that the school owl he had sent off would be arriving either tonight or tomorrow morning and he would be expecting his Father to come about Dumbledore dragging him out of bed at midnight to accuse him of theft…it was inconsequential that he had actually taken the sword, a priceless relic of Godric Gryffindor, for his own purposes.

Sighing again, much heavier this time, he stood back up and left his revision where it was. He instead picked up his cup of tea, one of his recreational books, and he headed to the bathroom for a long, relaxing soak in the bath. Perhaps he was still taking on too much, regardless that it seemed that he had gotten better at juggling all his responsibilities. The portfolios needed to be checked twice a day, just in case, then there was the new legislation that he was writing up, both for the dramatic change in creature laws and the one he was doing for the investigation of the Dementors and their steadfast removal from Azkaban, the latter of which he was doing with absolutely no help, he might add.

Then there were the meetings with Dumbledore, the discovery of the Horcruxes and by extension the secret of Voldemort’s inhumanity. Then there was the sword, his bargaining chip, which was now hidden in Grimmauld Place, he would need to go and check on that too, to make sure that Remus wouldn’t find it. Perhaps if he kept Remus so busy with decorating then he wouldn’t have the time to look in the depths of the attic for hidden treasures.

He sat himself in the bath, he cracked open his book and he started reading, letting his mind focus only on the words on the pages, not on anything else. What was done was now done, and he would have to live with that, with the choices that he had made, and the things that he had done. It was too late to change them. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

It had taken three days for his owl to reach Lucius Malfoy and his Father immediately took an emergency day off of work to come and visit him. Harry had been expecting him and he opened the door to his rooms early on Sunday morning, the eleventh of May, the day after Slytherin’s narrow win over Hufflepuff.

 

“Good morning, Father.”

 

“Would you care to explain why our home was searched yesterday afternoon?” Lucius asked as soon as the door was closed behind him.

 

“I warned you beforehand.”

 

“You did. Thankfully, as I needed that time to ensure that nothing was amiss and that your letters and gifts from Rabastan were removed from the house, to Lestrange manor. You have piqued the interest of your soon to be in-laws as well. I believe that we would all like an explanation, Harry.”

 

“Would you like some tea, Father? This explanation might take a while.” Harry said courteously.

 

Lucius sighed and he nodded his head curtly before he sat himself on the settee and laid his cane beside his leg. He took note of all the books and pieces of parchment spread over the coffee table, which, while never completely clear, was usually not as messy either. Picking up several pieces of parchment and rifling through them he realised that it was all exam revision and he replaced it with a proud smile.

Harry brought over two cups of tea and he took a plate of biscuits that he had carried over, balanced on his forearm, and he placed it on the table between them. They each took a sip of their tea and then Lucius turned right back to business.

 

“Why were we searched and how did you know of such a thing?”

 

“I was the cause.” Harry admitted immediately. “I took the sword of Gryffindor and I’ve hidden it well away from Dumbledore and no one will be able to find it. Dumbledore immediately suspected me and he actually dragged me out of bed at midnight!”

 

“I am aware of such, Severus floo called me to tell me that you had put on a very good, very convincing show.”

 

Harry chuckled. “It was rather convincing. I even slipped in a little hint of true information by pretending to let slip about my nutrient potion. It is the most general of the three that I’m taking and it ties back in with your adoption of me due to abuse.”

 

“Why did you steal the sword? Why do you need it?”

 

“It will tie into some of my plans for later.” Harry said. “At the moment I’m still hashing everything out, but I knew that I needed it, so I took it when the opportunity arose and then removed the blame from myself by acting more ill than I truly was.”

 

“The search on the house was orchestrated by Dumbledore to look for the sword.” Lucius sighed. “He believed that you would have hidden it at home.”

 

“I can’t believe he’d think that I’d be so dull.” Harry giggled.

 

“You were ‘dull’, as you say, for taking it in the first place!” Lucius chastised.

 

“I needed it!” Harry defended.

 

“Pray tell, for what purpose?” Lucius demanded. “Why would you need a sword?”

 

“I need it as a bargaining chip. Its goblin made, I know for a fact that the goblins want it back.” Harry lied.

 

“So that rules out one of your vaults as a hiding place.” Lucius said thoughtfully. “You’d never keep it here. So that leaves Grimmauld Place.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know where it is, you can’t be implicated. If I am caught, there’s no reason for me to drag anyone else down with me, not that I’m going to be caught, of course, but as a precaution it’s safer not to tell anyone until after the fact.”

 

Lucius sighed, knowing exactly how stubborn his son was, especially when he believed that he would be protecting those he cared about by keeping silent.

 

“I hope that you know what you’re doing, Harry.”

 

“I do.” Harry told him.

 

“Good, now tell me more about that old fool and what he did to you. Severus has already told me as such, but your note said to await your owl, so I did, now I need to know about what happened from your point of view.”

 

“Well I needed to act like nothing was wrong, so I finished off the revision that I was already doing, got ready for bed and took my nutrient potion as normal. I had no clue he was going to hammer down my door at nearly midnight on a school night. I thought that he’d at least wait until the next morning.”

 

“No, quite what the man was thinking, I dread to hear.”

 

“Anyway, I over inflated the side effects of the nutrient potion, of course I was sweating out my body weight and you could feel the fever at several paces, but I acted so dazed and stupid. McGonagall was definitely on my side, she was furious!”

 

“I will inform the governors and I’ll drop it in meaningless small talk with the Minister, with any luck Dumbledore will not be returning for your seventh year.”

 

Harry grinned. “Thank you.”

                        

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Lucius told him again, more seriously this time.

 

“I do. I have a plan and so far, it’s working out perfectly.” Harry said happily.

 

“Do try to focus more on your exams than on your schemes and plots, Harry.”

 

“I will.” He said, then he frowned as he thought of something. “What happens if a meeting is called during an exam?”

 

“It won’t. You have been excluded from the calling list for the duration of your exams.”

 

Harry let out a relieved sigh.

 

“Of course, if there are any votes or debates, they will be held off until you can be there in person. If anything is urgent then it will fall to your proxy, though as you haven’t named one…”

 

“I have.” Harry interrupted with a smile.

 

“Who have you named? Surely not Draco?”

 

Harry laughed. “No, I named you.”

 

“It was nice of you to inform me of this decision.”

 

Harry just grinned. Lucius sighed. Sometimes there was no chastising the boy, he just didn’t seem to care and if he had a mind to, he wouldn’t let things bother him. This was one such time and Lucius let it go…he seemed to be doing that a lot with Harry.

 

“How is your revision coming along with your illness?”

 

“Great, I still have less homework to do than my year mates, though I have picked up more work for Transfiguration and recently for Potions too, but I’m still on much less than the others, so I’m packing in more revision. The exams are a few weeks away now and there have already been several cases of hysteria and a couple of panic attacks. I can’t wait for them to all be over so I can get in some much needed rest and relaxation! Not to mention reading.”

 

“How are you going with those several dozen books that you bought?”

 

Harry grinned. “Alright, but not as well as I would have liked due to the exams creeping closer. I’ve read two and I’m on a third now.”

 

“I’m very impressed. I didn’t think you would get through the first book.” Lucius said.

 

Harry smiled. “I never thought I would either, but I couldn’t sleep after I was woken up by Dumbledore for his little accusational chat, the night sweats were awful. So I stayed up reading.”

 

Lucius sighed and he drained the rest of his tea. He grabbed his cane and stood. Harry did the same.

 

“Let us see if we can’t get rid of that meddling old fool with this incident now.” He said.

 

“I hope so, I’ve had enough of him interfering with everything.” Harry said.

 

“I shouldn’t think it would be too long. There are quite a few who have turned against him now in recent months, most of them because of you actually.”

 

“Me?” Harry questioned.

 

“Indeed. You have more fans than you realise. You tell them to jump and they will do so without question. It is rather galling.”

 

Harry laughed. “If you say so. If it helps me get what I want, I don’t really care that they’ll do what I say.”

 

“Of course not.” Lucius despaired. “Oh, here, this is from Xerxes. I believe you greatly amused him with your last letter. Indeed, he could barely speak through laughing after reading it and he would chortle now and then as he quilled your reply.”

 

Harry said goodbye to Lucius, taking the proffered letter, and he grinned, going back to his coffee table as he split the wax on the letter. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on Dumbledore’s wall when Lucius tore him a new arsehole.

He shook out the letter and read it. Firstly, Xerxes deplored that anyone had shown him a memory of his younger self, second he said that if he so much as mentioned the threat of detention for his late essay then he would curse him into a vegetative state and thirdly, he had insisted firmly that he had not been groomed while in Hogwarts. Apparently, according to Xerxes, Professor Slughorn had liked to think that he had a hand in the successes of those who he had invited into his ‘Slug Club’ of which Xerxes had been a member, along with all the other boys in that room. He exchanged connections and ‘legs up’ for acknowledgement in the future, including gifts, such as tickets for shows or sporting events, sweets, invitations to parties or introductions to other important people. He sounded utterly vile to Harry, and still very manipulative and parasitical. Far from reassuring him, Xerxes’ letter was making Harry dislike the man he had never met even more, though at least he believed Xerxes when he insisted that he hadn’t been groomed, or anything much worse and sinister, which was at least a slight weight from his mind.

Unable to concentrate and unable to do anything productive now, Harry decided to visit Remus and see how well Grimmauld Place was coming on. It would be a better use of his time to check that the sword was actually still safe. It might help to cool his anger too, instead of thinking of a grown man manipulating children into sending him gifts and invitations.

 

“Dobby.” He called out.

 

“Master Harry Potter, Sir calls for Dobby.”

 

“Hi Dobby, can you take me to Grimmauld Place, please. I want to visit Remus.”

 

“Of course, Sir. Anything for the great, noble Harry Potter, Sir.” 

 

Harry tried not to laugh, or roll his eyes, at Dobby’s exuberance and instead he held out his hand and suddenly he found himself in the kitchen of number twelve and he startled Remus so badly that Harry heard a cup smash.

 

“I’m so sorry, Remus!” He said. “I suppose I should stop with these spur of the moment visits.” He laughed.

 

He couldn’t help but notice that Remus hid several documents from his general view before coming to hug him.

 

“Nonsense. This is your house, Harry. You can come whenever you like, though a few moment’s warning would likely save my poor heart from failing. And it would save the china too.” He added with a rueful grin as a wave of his wand repaired the cup and another cleaned up the spilt tea.

 

Harry grinned, pushing the documents out of his mind for future thoughts.

 

“I got so sick of revision, I needed a break, so I decided to come and see how the decorating was going and so far, this looks amazing!” He said looking at the bright, clean looking kitchen. It was bright white, with pale grey accents, just as he’d asked for.

 

Gone was the grungy table that had to have been centuries old. It was replaced by an even bigger table that was a lovely pale wood, perhaps pine, (but Harry was no expert on different woods or how to recognise them) with several dozen matching chairs.

The counters had been ripped out and replaced, the walls and ceiling had been freshly painted, the floor was newly tiled and the appliances were all new too. The only thing that had stayed the same was the large fireplace, but the brickwork had been scrubbed vigorously until they were once again red and not soot stained black.

 

“It looks incredible in here. I feel like I can eat without catching something or getting food poisoning! Well done, Remus.”

 

“I can’t take the credit for the fireplace.” He said, taking note of where he was looking. “Kreacher came back suddenly and he just started scrubbing them for ‘Master Harry Potter.’ I take it you found him after?”

 

“Yes, the little beast was hiding in Walburga Black’s bedroom. He told me that he’d made a nest of sorts under her bed. I ordered him to dismantle the nest, to stop hiding and to start help cleaning up.”

 

Remus smiled at that. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the rooms that have been done. I don’t think they’ll be ready in time for the summer though, Harry.”

 

“That’s okay. We’re doing our best, or rather you are while I’m in school.” Harry laughed.

 

“I’ve been trying to get to the guest bedrooms too, but the main rooms are taking so long to clean up, then there’s ripping out the old furniture and repainting and getting the new stuff in.”

 

Harry sighed. “Yeah, the main rooms have to come first, then the unused rooms. The kitchen was the main one for me. Then the living rooms and drawing rooms, the bathrooms and the hallways. Please tell me that that troll’s leg and the house elf heads have been removed?”

 

“They’ve been removed.” Remus said with a grin.

 

Harry let out an exaggerated breath. “Thank fuc…Merlin.”

 

Remus gave him a look and Harry grinned innocently.

 

“You are so much like your Father, and Sirius’s influence must have rubbed off on you at some point too.”

 

Harry grinned wider. “Good! I’d hate to be too uptight and stuffy, Professor Lupin.”

 

Remus gave him a grin of his own at that. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

 

Harry loved the main hallway. It was bright yellow, just as he’d wanted. It looked so bright that he was almost convinced to shade his eyes. He grinned.

 

“This is perfect! Just what I wanted!”

 

The carpet underfoot was a nice cream colour, charmed to repel dirt and stains, the ceiling was white, all the light fixtures were gold and the portrait of Walburga Black was gone.

 

“Did you have to remove the section of wall?” Harry asked innocently.

 

“No, I set fire to the portrait, contained it to just that one section and once the portrait was completely burnt off, I repaired the wall and then painted it.”

 

Harry laughed. “Thank Merlin she’s gone. How does the dining room look?”

 

“As per your wishes, it’s a little darker, but with the added red you picked out, it doesn’t look dingy or gloomy. I also made sure not to break a single plate or glass.”

 

Harry walked around the room and he was very happy to see that his idea of pairing a bright red with a darker wood worked perfectly together.

It was the same throughout the house, all the hallways were yellow, gold and white, making it bright and colourful all the way through. The drawing room, whose curtains had once been filled with doxies and had had dead puffskeins under the sofa, was now bright blue and a medium shade of rosewood as an accent.

 

“I’m going to tear down that tapestry too.” Harry said conversationally. “There’s another one in the Black vault that’s much more elegant and beautiful and what’s more, it isn’t damaged and as the Lord of House Black, I’m on it.”

 

Remus nodded, but otherwise stayed silent as Harry walked around his house, looking and marvelling at all of the changes.

 

“Is there anything that you don’t like? It can always be changed.” Remus said.

 

“No, I love it! I don’t want to change a thing about the redecorated rooms.” Harry insisted. “When I first came to this monstrosity of a house, well, I never once believed that there was any redeeming it. I thought it would just be better to bulldoze it and start again from scratch. Seeing it like this, I realise that I was wrong. I just wish that Sirius had been alive to see it like this. It would have made him so much happier.”

 

Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Harry sighed heavily.

 

“I’d best be getting back. I have a lot of revision to get through. I need to pass these exams if I have any hope of being a teacher.”

 

“How is…how is Aceline?”

 

“She’s great!” Harry replied happily, glad that Remus was at least trying. “She’s come on so well and her English has really improved, as has my French, and now that we can understand one another more we’re getting closer. She’s so supportive of everything that I do and I told her about this house as well, how it was being cleaned up and painted and getting all new furniture.”

 

“Is…are you doing this redecoration for Aceline?” Remus asked him, shocked.

 

“Of course! I would have been humiliated to have brought her to this house and to even contemplate asking her to live here with our children!” Harry shivered. “No.”

 

“You’re going to live here with her?”

 

“After we marry, of course.” Harry insisted. “Until then I’ll be living with her family in France as I do my teaching apprenticeship in Beauxbatons while waiting for her to graduate. Once I’ve completed that I’ll apply for a job at Hogwarts, if I get that then we can transfer our lives back over to Britain and I can move in here with her and any children that we’ll have at that time. So I might have to start converting some bedrooms into child friendly versions, not to mention set up a nursery too, but that can wait until all the main rooms are finished, they are more important for now. We have another three years at least until any children start appearing.”

 

“Is Aceline’s favourite colour yellow, by any chance?” Remus asked wearily.

 

“It is, how did you know?” Harry asked, trying not to laugh at the thought of Rabastan’s favourite colour being bright, sunshine yellow. His favourite colour was green…Harry’s eyes shade of green to be exact.

 

“Just a feeling.” Remus said weakly.

 

“Thank you so much for all that you’ve done here, Remus! It’s actually beautiful now. How I would have imagined it would have looked in its heyday, at the peak of its prime, when this area was well to do and coveted highly. Before it all went to rack and ruin.”

 

“Anything for you, Harry.” Remus told him and Harry gave him a hug before calling Dobby to take him back to Hogwarts.

 

It was only when he was safely back in the castle and Dobby left that Harry allowed his mind to drift to the parchment documents that Remus had quickly hidden from his sight.

 

“Kreacher.” He called out.

 

“Master calls for old Kreacher.” The elf warbled as he appeared in front of him.

 

“Yes, Kreacher. I want you to do something else for me now. Something that requires stealth, silence and for you to remain invisible.”

 

“What would Master have of poor, old Kreacher?”

 

“I want you to spy on the Order of Phoenix meetings that go on at number twelve Grimmauld Place.” Harry said firmly. “I want you to listen to all of them, document exactly who was there and what they each say. Am I clear?”

 

“Yes, Master.” Kreacher said, a lot happier now that he knew that he wouldn’t have to steal anything else from highly warded rooms.

 

“After each meeting ends, you will bring the information to me when I’m alone, alright?”

 

“Yes, Master.” Kreacher answered.

 

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Harry said, dismissing the elf.

 

He sat back on one of his settees and he lost himself in his thoughts. He should have done this a long time ago. Kreacher had been his from the very moment of Sirius’ death. He had known that the Order was still meeting at Grimmauld Place, he should have thought sooner to have Kreacher spy upon them for him. Because of that error, he had missed out on almost a year’s worth of meetings, a year’s worth of information. He sighed, there was nothing to be done for it now. He’d just have to hope that the information that Kreacher would bring him from now on would be enough for him to glean the Order’s plans from.

After all, if he knew what his enemies on all sides of him were doing, it would be a hell of a lot easier to counter their attacks, to manoeuvre his own plans through their own defences and to have a heads up on anything that he needed to know, such as anyone getting close to finding his Fiancé, any plans to attack or humiliate his parents, or any plans involving himself.

He truly should have thought to have done such a thing sooner, maybe then he wouldn’t have been caught off guard by Bill appearing in the Wizengamot and he might have been able to handle his sudden appearance better, but he did have a lot going on, he just hadn’t thought to do as such, but at least the sword was still safe and hidden and it didn’t seem likely that Remus would have the time to even look in the attic, let alone find the hidden sword in it. The redecoration was going really well, but there was still a lot more left to do. He would need to find a safer, more secure place for the sword soon though, just in case, until the time came for him to use it as the bargaining chip that it was taken to be. He truly hoped that Voldemort liked it and that, as Dumbledore believed, he would want it very, very much. His entire bargaining ploy was riding on just how much Voldemort wanted this sword, and how much he would want to know that Dumbledore knew about his Horcruxes and was hunting them down.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m getting to the very good parts now and I can’t wait, in the next chapter we have more Quidditch, exams and Horcrux hunting. Then we’ll have the much anticipated summer and endless Harry/Rabastan interaction. Of course this includes Rodolphus and Xerxes too and the hated Rhadamanthus will make a comeback…no it is not yet his time to die, unfortunately, but he will die.
> 
> I believe that this is all that needed doing this time, thank you so much for reading and reviewing, lovelies, until the next update,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	21. Horcrux Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Time
> 
> He would need to find a safer, more secure place for the sword soon though, just in case, until the time came for him to use it as the bargaining chip that it was taken to be. He truly hoped that Voldemort liked it and that, as Dumbledore believed, he would want it very, very much. His entire bargaining ploy was riding on just how much Voldemort wanted this sword, and how much he would want to know that Dumbledore knew about his Horcruxes and was hunting them down.  
>  

 

Chapter Twenty-One – Horcrux Hunting

 

Harry really wasn’t feeling this last Quidditch match of the season as he oversaw his team’s preparations. It was just a little over a week away before the exams started in earnest and he was overly stressed as it was, without this final match to play, and he just wanted to get back to his revision. He did not need this impromptu break right about now.

 

“Are you okay, Captain?” Demelza asked him with a worried frown.

 

Harry gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m a little distracted because of the approaching exams, nothing more, but you know that I’ll perk up during the match, once the adrenaline starts flowing.”

 

“I never did understand why they played the last match of the year just a week before the exams start.” Katie sighed, looking as tired and as weary as Harry felt, then she was in her seventh and final year, these were her final exams and they were so important to her future that Harry had half expected her to come to him and ask if she could sit out of this match and could he please substitute her on the pitch. He would have done so without complaint, if only she’d asked. He understood now that there were so many more important things than an inter-house Quidditch match, even if it was a match for the Cup.

 

“It would have been better to play it in the last week of term. I know everyone is lazy and such in that last week, but to actually hold the match a week before the NEWT exams start?” Harry shook his head, trying to ignore the voice in his head that was automatically running through his revision schedule. It was going to throw him off and put him a few hours behind to play this match.

 

“We’re aiming for a quick match, yeah?” Pauley asked him, looking around at his tired team curiously.

 

Then he was only a second year, his exams were not that taxing and the biggest thing to him right now was choosing his electives for next year. He didn’t understand why Katie and Harry were killing themselves with revision, or why they were so worried about these exams because he had nothing to personally compare them to. He would learn, he would almost certainly go through exactly the same when he reached his OWL years and then again when he reached NEWT level.

The team were all very young, the only other person on the team who could maybe understand was Demelza, who was a fifth year and taking her OWLs this year. Harry wondered if the startling increase in workload had shocked her as much as it had him coming from his fourth year into his fifth. That workload would increase substantially again, and the topics would become harder and more complicated as she entered her sixth year, her first year of NEWT level. Harry was expecting, and preparing, for his own workload to all but bury him next year, as he would no longer have an illness to pander to and thus he’d be on the same workload as the rest of his year mates, which would come as a bit of a shock to him after his light workload this year to compensate for his illness and the severe side effects of the potions he was taking to heal himself.

 

“As quick as humanly possible.” Harry agreed with a nod. “I have a revision schedule to keep to.”

 

“What is our play then?” Katie asked him seriously.

 

Harry considered that carefully. He wanted the game over with quickly, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to throw the game away either. He wanted to win, because Gryffindor would take the Quidditch Cup for the second year in a row if they did, though technically third year in a row, as no one had won the Cup in his fourth year, because Quidditch had been cancelled due to the Tri-wizard tournament, and Gryffindor had won the Cup the year before too, thanks in part to Harry’s Firebolt. He touched his broom now, just stroking his hands over it and remembering Sirius.

 

“I think the best way we can play this is to concede as few goals as we can. Pauley, this will put pressure on you, but I know that you can do it.” Harry said, his eyes seeking out his second year Keeper, whose young face was set and determined. He was an old hat at this now, he had been on the team all year and he’d put up with all sorts thrown at him because of how young he was, but he’d proved everyone wrong, even in their last match against Hufflepuff, where the sun had been in his eyes, all but blinding him, and still he hadn’t given up and Gryffindor had won.

 

“Girls, I need you to do all you can to support Pauley, to keep Gryffindor in front on points. Keep your passes smooth, your shots on target and we’ll be fine. Ritchie, Jimmy, I want you boys…”

 

“To take out the Beaters?” Jimmy guessed.

 

Harry smiled. “No. Not in this match. We want a quick win, but no matter what, winning is better. Take out the Seeker and Keeper. In that order of preference, but don’t foul either. Only aim for the Keeper when the Quaffle is in scoring distance. Girls, if you can assist with this please.”

 

His team all nodded and he nodded to them as well, one sharp dip of his head. He took a deep breath and let it out slow.

 

“I will, of course, hunt that snitch down and I will catch it as soon as I can, with or without the rival Seeker on my tail. The Firebolt is unmatched.”

 

“And so is the man atop it.” Katie teased him.

 

Harry laughed and shook his head.

 

“Ravenclaw are going to give us a good game, a hard game. They aren’t going to meekly roll over and just let us win.” He said with a sigh. “Even though they aren’t playing for the Cup, they’re playing for dignity, they will try to stop us from winning the Cup, just on principle. Though none of us want to see Slytherin as Cup winners. They are going to be the only ones truly rooting for a Ravenclaw win, outside of the Ravenclaws, of course.”

 

“We’ve got this Cup in the bag, three years in a row!” Demelza grinned.

 

“Let’s get out there and win it for Gryffindor.” Harry said, looking at his watch and seeing that it was nearly time anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to scope out the conditions beforehand. It was light, bright and hot being May, but there was some decent cloud cover today, the nice, fluffy white kind as summer fast approached.

 

They were cheered heavily as they came out of their changing rooms, their robes almost blinding red in the bright sunlight.

 

“Pauley, watch the sun and remember our last match.”

 

“Don’t damage my eyes looking directly into the sun, anticipate where they’re going to throw the Quaffle, cover my blind side.” Pauley said seriously.

 

Harry smiled. “Good lad. If you carry on like this then I wouldn’t be surprised if England called you up to the national team, Merlin knows they need a new Keeper and as they still won’t take on the phenomenal Oliver Wood, well…they need to do something and I have no idea what they’re waiting for. At this rate we won’t even qualify for the Quidditch World Cup in two years.”

 

“I didn’t know that you followed the national team.” Katie said.

 

“The national team, yes, club teams, not so much. Though as Draco supports the Falmouth Falcons, then I hear about them almost every week and what the scores were because Draco tells me.”

 

They had a short wait for the bright blue team of Ravenclaw to wander onto the pitch with them. The Slytherins cheered for them, as expected. Blaise had actually told him that he was going to be jeering for him to lose today that morning after breakfast, as Harry had sat at the Gryffindor table with his team that morning, running through game plays and tactics, and not at the Slytherin table as he usually did. He smiled as he thought of it.

The fourteen of them got into position, Madam Hooch holding out a Galleon coin. Once again, as the leaders on points, Gryffindor got to choose and Harry chose heads. Heads came up and he happily chose his preferred half of the pitch, putting Pauley in the shaded half of the pitch. It wouldn’t last and soon both sides of the pitch would be in the sun, but hopefully Harry could catch the snitch before that happened.

He shook hands with Davis, graciously wishing him and his team well and that they all had a good game, under the very approving eye of Madam Hooch as he displayed good sportsmanship. The Snitch and the Bludgers were released into the air and Madam Hooch picked up the Quaffle, watching them all as they stood still, in position, waiting for her signal.

She threw the Quaffle high into the air and Harry shot off like a cork from a shaken bottle. He immediately started looking for the Snitch. He needed to catch it quick and end this game. He wanted to get back to his revision and preparation for the exams, which were only a week away now. This game truly had come at the worst time, but next year would be even worse for him, as he prepared for his last year of NEWTs. He made a mental note to spend some more time training Dillan, his reserve Seeker, just in case he needed to substitute himself.

He ended up hovering near the Slytherin bleachers, his eyes scanning everywhere. He ignored the barbs being shouted at him from the sea of green and silver spectators as he flicked his gaze around, trying to spot the glint of gold in the sky. He watched as Pauley made a spectacular save and he smiled softly. That young boy had come on so very well in just a year and his budding confidence had sky rocketed, as well as his popularity, as the star Keeper of the Gryffindor team. Harry remembered what that felt like, his first year on the team, after every spectacular win their team faced and every time he caught the Snitch. It was an addictive feeling.  

The Ravenclaw Beaters had been told to take him out, Harry deduced, as they were in fact not even focusing on anyone else and it was a frustrating annoyance as he dodged one Bludger and then had to quickly duck the other one. He zoomed off and tried to put some distance between himself and the Beaters, as a Bludger was less likely to make contact with him if it was hit from further away. Unfortunately the Beaters followed him…they truly had been told to take him out, by any means necessary.

He ducked another Bludger aimed at his head and he could feel his temper rising, but he refused to revoke his own orders…Ritchie and Jimmy were to focus on the Seeker and Keeper of the other team, not the Beaters. Unfortunately his wish of a quick game was rapidly dwindling as the Beaters didn’t give him a single moment to search for the Snitch, as soon as he started looking another Bludger came out of nowhere to interrupt him.

Zooming off higher this time, going up twenty feet above the game play, Harry took a moment to reassess the game from high above everyone else, almost getting a bird’s-eye view of the gameplay and then he started searching for the snitch once more, almost letting his gaze pass lazily over everything, without seeing anything, as the little glint of gold was usually spotted by the peripheral vision. Typically, a Bludger almost took off his face. He was getting pissed off now. He just wanted to go back to the library, or to his private rooms, and revise for the upcoming exams. This game was never going to end if those Beaters didn’t leave off of him and he could see the Ravenclaw Seeker taking advantage, searching desperately for the snitch as he was held up and distracted by the Beaters.

He dived suddenly, going below the game play this time, trying to keep a Ravenclaw Chaser between him and the Beaters at all times, but as there were two of them, Beaters that was, then they could come at him from both sides and pin him between them.

He’d had enough of this, he would have to rescind his orders and have Jimmy and Ritchie take out the Beaters, and he signalled to Madam Hooch that he wanted a time out. Her whistle blew and Harry went to the other half of the pitch, where the Gryffindor bleachers were located. It was a prickling sensation in his skin as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the gasp of outrage from the crowd, the look on Demelza’s face, who had already landed for the time out, as she looked behind him at whatever was happening. He heard the shrill, piercing blast of Madam Hooch’s whistle, being blow furiously and urgently, but before the noise had finished, he felt it…the Bludger strike to his back that pitched him forward three feet, into open air off of his broom. He fell several feet to the soft, lush grass below, landing on his front, only just managing to put his arms out to protect his head, to stop it from hitting the ground as Blaise’s had during the match last weekend.

He was dazed, but still conscious. He took a moment to evaluate himself and he was very surprised to find that he was alright, that he didn’t seem to have broken anything, or indeed hurt anything at all. He was winded though, very winded as he struggled to draw breath into his shrivelled, burning lungs.

His team crowded him then, having come running, but it was Katie, as the oldest and most reasonable, who pushed all the others away from him and then knelt to help him take a breath, rubbing his back until he could draw in a deep, painful, but much needed breath of air.

The first one broke the ice and he was able to draw in more and more oxygen, breathing quickly and desperately until his panic died down and he could draw in deeper, slower breaths. After he started taking in deeper breaths, and his panic receded, his head stopped spinning and he could relax a little.

 

“Are you okay to get up?” Katie asked him.

 

“That was a fucking foul!” Was the first thing he said.

 

“Blatant and in full view of everyone!” Pauley agreed angrily. “They really are desperate if they can sink that low.”

 

“He’s trying to claim that he never heard the whistle.” Jimmy said, coming back over to his team. “Madam Hooch doesn’t believe it for a second. As soon as the match starts up we have a penalty shot.”

 

Harry nodded carefully, and miraculously nothing twinged, nothing gave off any sense of pain and he carefully eased himself upright. Both legs and both arms still worked, he rubbed at his neck and there was no pain.

 

“You know, I really do think I’m alright.” He said, surprise colouring his voice. “It only hurts when I twist to my right, it hit my shoulder blade on that side. I’ll be able to carry on.”

 

“I think you should go to the hospital wing, you haven’t been well this year, Harry.” Katie told him.

 

“I’ll go for a check-up after the match.” He said. “But I really do feel fine, I said before that I wouldn’t kill myself over a game anymore, and I meant it. If I didn’t feel completely fine, then I wouldn’t go back on, but I do feel fine.”

 

He stood up and he tested his body for breaks or bumps, but as he’d said, the only point of pain was the impact site of the Bludger. It would undoubtedly be bruised, but he could live with a few bruises.

 

“I called the time out mostly to change my orders, take out those effing Beaters, now even more so, the little fouling gits.” Harry said, stretching his right arm. It pulled on the patch of soreness in his shoulder, which was spreading. He really needed a quick catch now.

 

“We already took out their Keeper, they’re going to bring their reserve on for the next part of the match.” Ritchie said. “But their reserve isn’t any good, so the girls should do fine.”

 

Harry nodded. “Good work, boys.”

 

Madam Hooch, finished now with chewing out the little snot who had fouled him, came over to them.

 

“Potter, hospital wing, now.” She ordered.

 

“I’m fine, Madam Hooch, honestly.” He said. “I’m not in any pain and I haven’t broken anything. I’m fine to carry on.”

 

“I won’t risk it.”

 

“I’m fine.” Harry stressed. “If I wasn’t I would be the first to take myself to Madam Pomfrey, my Father would have my hide otherwise, but I really am okay.”

 

He was scrutinised by those hawk like yellow eyes and then she nodded curtly. “If you feel unwell at all during play, stop immediately before you kill yourself.” She ordered.

 

Harry nodded his understanding. “We are ready to resume play.” Harry insisted.

 

Madam Hooch nodded and indicated both teams, they resumed their positions on the field, awaiting her whistle to resume the game.

 

“It looks like Gryffindor Captain and Seeker, Harry Potter, is going to restart after that disgusting bit of cheating by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters. It is good to see him on his feet and unharmed from such a low and desperate foul.”

 

The crowd cheered for him, no one liked to see fouling or cheating, and once Katie had taken the penalty shot against the Keeper, scoring of course, Madam Hooch’s whistle blew and play resumed.

Harry started out slow, testing himself, but he seemed completely fine and unhurt and he started scouting for the Snitch.

The crowd booed when the Beaters immediately started aiming for him again, it made Harry chuckle. Make one foul and suddenly any attempt on him was condemned. It didn’t deter the Beaters, well, not much, they were disheartened by the booing, jeering and catcalling, but they still took aim at him and tried to knock him off…at least they were doing it legally this time, not trying to foul him after the whistle had blown.

A small while later and Harry was avoiding Bludgers like usual, and he was desperately hoping that the game would end soon, and that was when he saw the flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. He was gone, chasing after it and he tried to dodge or beat the Bludgers that were suddenly sent his way. He grinned as he realised that he had dodged the both of them and his way to the Snitch was clear. His Firebolt unmatched, he caught up to the snitch in a heartbeat and his hand closed over the cold ball and he held it aloft happily.

The whistle went as the commentator shouted out that Gryffindor had won the match, that they had won the Quidditch Cup for the official second year in a row, even though everyone knew that it was really the third year in a row, because of the interrupted year where no one had won.

Harry was surrounded by his team, just in case anyone decided to hurl a Bludger at him after the whistle had blown, but it was all over now, there was no changing that Gryffindor had won or that they had the Cup.

They paraded around the pitch for a while, as Harry accepted the Cup as the Captain, then let all the members of his team have a hold and a lap of victory with it. Not wanting to waste too much time celebrating when he had revision to get back to, Harry landed and called his team down with him, but immediately after they had landed Harry was hauled off by his teammates, not to an after party, but to the hospital wing. They never even took the time to shower or change. It took just eight minutes after that before Draco, Theo, Astoria and Blaise found them there. Harry had been stripped topless and he was just being examined, his arm outstretched as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over his shoulder, checking it. The Quidditch Cup was in his lap.

 

“Are you alright?” Draco demanded, ignoring everyone else.

 

“Yeah.” Harry said with an easy smile. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I told you before, I’m very difficult to kill.”

 

“You should have come straight to me.” Madam Pomfrey chastised him yet again, for maybe the ninth time in fifteen minutes. “Imagine if you’d been seriously injured?”

 

“I wouldn’t have gotten back up if I was seriously injured.” He quipped.

 

“Is he hurt?” Draco asked Madam Pomfrey.

 

“Surprisingly, he isn’t.” She replied heavily. “There is a bit of bruising here, on the back of his shoulder, but there is no serious damage or anything of notable concern.”

 

“In other words I’m completely fine and I can go and celebrate!”

 

“For all of an hour before we’re back to revising.” Katie laughed.

 

“Exactly, so let’s go get to it quickly, because I want a bit of relaxation, a bit of fun, and then its straight back to the hard grind before the exams hit us.” Harry insisted.

 

His team cheered and Harry smiled. He hugged a tearful Astoria, who had been very worried about him, clapped Blaise and Theo on the shoulder and he gave Draco a quick, brotherly hug, before allowing his team to haul him off to Gryffindor Tower…he hadn’t been inside it since the last Quidditch party that had been thrown for their win against Hufflepuff. He was much more used to his own rooms now, but he was happy to show his face for an hour, eat some snacks, have a laugh, and then leave again, back to his own, private rooms. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of his objective, he would pass all of his exams this year, but for that to happen, he needed to be ready when those exams hit. He needed to be prepared and confident, and he would be. He _would_ pass all of his exams.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

The exams hit with a flurry of activity and last minute revision panic. Harry himself was rather calm and collected. He was nervous for his Ancient Runes exam, purely because Marcus had said that if he got anything other than an ‘O’ then Marcus would personally beat him into a hospital bed in St Mungos for the humiliation of failing the exam while under his personal tutelage.

Harry was just excited to get the exams over and done with, because it would be June now in just a week and then it would be a mere three weeks and he would be back home, with Rabastan.

His History of Magic exam went better than any of the previous years, purely because he was reading so many ancient books on History for the Wizengamot. He actually had expectations for something other than a ‘Dreadful’ on this exam. He’d even settle for a ‘P’ as long as it wasn’t anything lower, but he was hoping for an ‘A’ at the very least, even if he did think that he deserved and ‘EE’ just for the sheer length of some of his more knowledgeable answers.

 

“Stop daydreaming and test me!” Draco demanded, prodding him with a book.

 

Harry rolled his eyes but dutifully took the book and opened it to a random page. The Muggle Studies exam was in progress currently, that meant that they had at least another hour to study for their theory Charms exam which was to take place shortly afterwards. Draco was definitely highly strung over the whole exams and doing well and such.

 

“How can you be so calm?!” Theo demanded of him a short while later, looking very frazzled and stressed where Harry was quiet, composed and decidedly very calm seeming.

 

“There’s no pressure on me.” Harry said easily. “If I fail then I have a readymade excuse. I can resit my exams, or even repeat a year if needed because of my illness. So I actually feel rather relaxed and prepared.”

 

“I hate you.” Blaise declared.

 

Harry laughed. “Well you sure changed your tune!”

 

“No, I still want to fuck you, but I hate you too.”

 

“Real classy, Blaise.” Harry snorted. “Just know that it’ll never happen.”

 

“More’s the pity. I’m a good fuck.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it.”

 

“Oh, please, just let me at you once, you’d be perfect! I need to blow off some steam.”

 

“Shut up!” Draco snapped, very evil tempered and looking more and more like he was going to aim a curse at Blaise.

 

Blaise scoffed but went back to his revision. Harry did the same, testing Draco on Charms, Theo sometimes cutting in to embellish an answer or to correct Draco, Harry revealing who was right or not, to much sullenness from both young men.

Things carried on in this same vein for four more days, the exams took over everything that they did, over their very thoughts. Draco’s temper got worse, Blaise started ranting in French if the ambient noise went above a mere whisper, (Harry now able to understand a little more of what he was saying too, because of his French lessons with Blaise and Draco,) Theo withdrew from everyone and Harry was just trying to get through his exams while dealing with the side effects of his potions, which was just as difficult as it had been when he was debating in the Wizengamot, but it was doable. The potions affected his alertness, his focus, kept him in constant pain so that he could barely think, but he was determined to get through what he needed to.

It was the last day of the exams today, he could survive one more day. Just one more day. After the very last exam that afternoon he would be completely free to do as he liked. He planned to spend most of the remaining time now reading outside on the grass, by the clear lake, in the bright, warm sunshine. Very soon it would all be over and he couldn’t wait. He had done well in his exams so far, or at least he judged himself to have done alright, and he only had one more exam left, his Ancient Runes theory. They didn’t have a practical exam in Ancient Runes, it was all theory until next year, when he would have to at least display some aptitude with them. He hoped that another year of tutoring from Marcus and he would be able to complete this adequately and pass his NEWT exam in Ancient Runes, both theory and practical. Though he felt very sorry for Blaise, who was last alphabetically in their whole year, and thus he would be the very last person called up for all of his practical exams. Going last would be hell, waiting for that long with all the nerves and just wanting the exam to be over with, Harry wouldn’t have wanted to do it, but Blaise insisted that he was very used to it now after six years.

But he digressed, the exams finished today and Hogwarts closed for the summer in just three weeks and in just two days he would be going back to St Mungos for another assessment to see if he could reduce how many potions he was taking. It could not come soon enough in his opinion, even if it had come a week too late to help him through his exams, it would just be amazing to come off of them at last.

He’d barely had the time to write to Rabastan in the last week or two, but thankfully his Fiancé understood and didn’t hold it against him. Harry had sent him a letter detailing Slytherin’s narrow win against Hufflepuff and Gryffindor’s storming defeat of Ravenclaw, he did mention the shit who had fouled him, purely because Draco would tell everyone and he didn’t want to look like he was hiding anything. He did make sure to stress that he was just bruised, and not injured at all and there were definitely no broken bones, so at least they knew now that those bone strengthening potions were actually working.

Rabastan had replied just before the exams had started and he was furious on Harry’s behalf, of which Harry could tell because his handwriting, usually so carefully controlled because of the nerve damage that Rabastan had suffered, was sharp, jerky, and all over the place. Some words dipped down suddenly, some were elongated and much bigger, while others were smaller than usual, as if Rabastan had curled his hand and kept the quill focused in one place. Harry could barely read it, but he did his best.

He sent another owl at breakfast, on the morning that the exams started, reaffirming that yes, he truly was completely fine, that Madam Pomfrey had said so, yes he was sure that he hadn’t broken anything and no, he really did not want Rabastan and Rodolphus to kill a fourteen year old boy over an inter-school Quidditch foul.

He changed the subject to his exams, he whined some more about the family portfolios, he complained about Marcus being a git with all the last minute Ancient Runes tutoring he’d sprung on him the day before and he ended his last letter with declarations of love and that he couldn’t wait to see Rabastan again next month.

He hadn’t had a reply yet, whether because it was taking a while for Rabastan to answer, or because he was being considerate of his exams and didn’t want to be a distraction, but Harry truly was very distracted as he struggled through the morning exams with a crushing headache and through the afternoon exams being drowsy and sleepy. He was thankful that they only lasted for a week, he doubted that he could have kept up with the pressure heaped on his shoulders if it had gone on for longer.

His theory exams all went rather well considering his ‘condition’ and naturally, Defence Against the Dark Arts was his forte and he performed everything perfectly during the exam, even a Patronus charm for extra points during his practical exam. He remembered doing as such last year, for a different examiner, for his OWLs. It made him smile to watch his bright white stag prance around the hall before shimmering out of existence.

He was so glad when the exams ended and the moment he was told to put his quill down, that the exam was now over, he all but slumped in his seat with relief. All that revision cramming, all of the stress, the testing and tempers, it was all over with now. There was nothing that any of them could do to change what they’d already done. He felt like he could breathe for the first time in months. Now it was time to just kick back and catch up on the massive amount of reading he had to do…his ‘to read’ pile really was getting rather ridiculous now and something had to be done. He fully planned to start immediately. If he played off on a headache, no one would stop him from going up to his rooms alone and he could read, uninterrupted, for several hours. He had an unending supply of tea, pumpkin juice and biscuits, he’d have to come down for dinner, but he could go straight back up to his rooms once he’d eaten. It sounded like utter bliss to him.   

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry was once again sat in just his black boxer-briefs on an examination table as the senior Healer got to work. Even the Healer had noticed how much he had filled out since his initial examination.

Harry looked at himself critically then, as that was mentioned aloud, trying to notice any differences, but he had changed so slowly over the last several months that he couldn’t see the changes to himself like the Healer, and even Lucius who was sat beside him, could.

 

“You’ve come on so well, Harry.” The Healer told him.

 

“Can I come off the potions?” He asked immediately, getting right down to the reason that he was here. “Or at least cut down on them?”

 

The Healer smiled at him. “Yes, significantly too.”

 

Harry perked right up. “How significantly?” He asked happily.

 

“Well, you can say goodbye to your bone strengthening potions and those headaches that they cause.” The Healer said with a smile and Harry actually whooped in joy. The Healer laughed. “You’ll have to keep taking the lower dosages of the calcium potions for another month now, the nutrient potions too, alternating them on differing days, then we’ll assess you again, but you might be kicking all of these potions goodbye by the end of this month, maybe in early July at the latest, ready just in time for the summer holidays.”

 

“It’s going to be so amazing to stop taking them. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be normal.” He said. “I’ve been struggling through with those headaches, the night sweats and fevers and the drowsiness that to suddenly be without them is going to be strange, but it’s going to be fantastic too!”

 

“I’ll bet.” The Healer told him. “You’ve put on a good amount of weight and there’s more flesh to you than when we last met. None of your bones are poking out so sharply anymore, you’ve actually achieved the minimum weight for your height and age group. Keep going, Harry, you’ve done so well, but there is still a lot more room for growth, you can still do better, but you’re on the right track, Harry. Well done.”

 

Harry couldn’t stop grinning and he looked to Lucius for praise automatically, and that was truly the best thing about all of this, that he felt that he had a true set of parents in Lucius and Narcissa and he could turn to them for readily given praise at times like this, like a real family.

 

“You’ve done very well.” Lucius told him. “I can’t wait until we get home and we can tell your Mother this wonderful news. But this doesn’t mean that you can start filling up on sweets and treats, you’ll be sticking with your healthy meals first, and then any snacks or desserts can come afterwards.” He added sternly.

 

Harry nodded his understanding. He hadn’t really noticed that his bones had vanished. He looked at his own chest, noting that he could barely see his ribs now, which had once stuck out prominently. His elbow joints were less stark than they once used to be, his hands looked less skeletal. He just looked so much better and he could hardly keep the grin from his face.

He got dressed in record time, knowing that Rabastan was waiting for him back at home for news on his health. He knew that the hypocalcaemia had worried and shocked all of those around him. It had shocked him! But now it was almost over. He was healthier, fitter, stronger. He could stop taking the bone strengthening potions, so he would no longer have to suffer with the skull crushing headaches, he was on a lowered dose of the calcium and nutrient potions and he could take them both every other day, the calcium potion first and then the next day just the nutrient potion. He was finally seeing the results of his heavy potion regime. He was finally being allowed to cut down on the terribly strong potions. He would be off of them completely in just another month or so. It felt amazing. _He_ felt amazing.

He was escorted back to Malfoy Manor, to tell everyone the good news before he had to go back to Hogwarts, and tell Draco the good news too.

As soon as they landed in the receiving room, Harry ran off, Lucius chastising him from behind for such undignified behaviour, but Harry didn’t listen as he ran into the front parlour and he didn’t even stop then as he carried on running and he leapt onto the settee beside Rabastan and he flumped straight onto his Fiancé’s chest, holding him tight.

 

“I take it that it’s good news from the wide grin on your face?” Xerxes asked in amusement as Rabastan laughed at Harry’s antics, holding him back just as tightly.

 

“Amazing news!” Harry said happily. “I made the minimum weight for my height and age group and I can stop taking the bone strengthening potions! No more headaches!”

 

“That’s wonderful, Harry.” Rabastan told him happily. “Is there any news on the other potions?”

 

Harry nodded. “I’m on a lower dosage for both and I can take them every other day now, and not every single day.” He said happily. “I’ll be off them all completely in another month.”

 

Rabastan all but grappled him into a hug and Harry got a big kiss to the lips too, which made his grin widen impossibly further.

 

“I’m so happy for you.” Rabastan told him.

 

Harry nodded. “It feels wonderful to know that it was all worth it in the end, several months of daily headaches, drowsiness and nights full of fevers and sweating, but it’s actually coming to an end now, I can see the end to it and it makes it so worthwhile to know that my health is back on track and I’m exactly where I should be…or almost where I should be. And look! My ribs have gone too!” He said, pulling up his shirt and showing off his flat, toned belly as much as the barely visible ribs. He did not miss that Rabastan’s eyes stayed lower than his ribs for a very long while, staring at the toned abdomen on display, before actually looking at his flesh covered ribs.

 

“I’m so proud of you.” Rabastan told him. “For putting yourself and your health first, for taking all those potions without once missing a dose, despite the rather awful, and severe, side effects that they caused. You just got on with what you needed to do regardless, you still had your lessons, you still attended and took part in your Wizengamot debates and you have gone through all of your exams while on those potions and you did so admirably.”

 

Harry grinned so happily, so widely, that his face started hurting as he tucked his shirt back down and cuddled back up to Rabastan. “Now we just need to get you and Rodolphus healthy too.”

 

“We might take some more time yet.” Rodolphus said from beside him and Rabastan. “But seeing how you have overcome your illnesses, going through your course of needed potions, it helps us to realise that they do work, that we can get better if we stick to them. It has given me a kick to keep going, I’ve remembered that it will all be worth it in the end.”

 

Harry sat up, straddling Rabastan’s lap and he reached over to hug Rodolphus too, much to the older man’s discomfort. Harry was still a soft little fluff head, but Rodolphus sighed and scratched at Harry’s scalp with his fingernails regardless. The boy just didn’t care, especially not about social boundaries, and he would have done as he had whether Rodolphus acknowledge it or not. At least this way it kept Harry happy, and these days if Harry was happy, then Rabastan was happy.

 

“Harry.” Narcissa said sternly. “Rearrange your lower body, please.”

 

Harry sighed and he pulled back from Rodolphus and he moved his one leg to be with his other leg on the one side of Rabastan’s body.

 

“If only we were alone.” Rabastan whispered into his ear. Harry grinned up at him, a naughty gleam in his eyes.

 

“If only.” He added in a soft, sultry whisper.

 

Harry settled himself on Rabastan’s chest and then Xerxes inquired about his exams and Harry went off on one again, regaling them all with how every exam had gone in his own opinion, what questions he had struggled with and which ones he had answered with several long paragraphs.

 

“My theory Potions could have been better and Arithmancy definitely could have been better, I’m hoping to get an ‘A’ in it, but I might have slid down into a ‘P’. If that’s the case then I will definitely resit the exam.”

 

“I’m sure that you’ve done fine.” Rabastan assured him. “It’s the nature of these sorts of serious exams that make you over analyse everything and expect the worst when you’ve done more than enough and have passed them all.”

 

“Merlin, I hope so!” Harry said, snuggling in tighter.

 

“Do you have time for some tea before you go back?” Narcissa asked him.

 

“Well, I don’t have any exams or any lessons, I’m literally just waiting for the official end of term now, so I don’t see why I can’t stay for dinner too.” He said with a grin, looking hopefully to Lucius.

 

His Father sighed, but he smiled too. “As you wish, Harry. You can stay for dinner, as long as you are back before curfew.”

 

“Yes!” Harry cheered. “Everything’s going my way today.” He grinned.

 

Lucius sighed again at his son’s antics, but he couldn’t be mad with Harry, not today. They had received some very good news earlier, and Harry was entitled to celebrate it a little. He was correct too, he had finished all of his exams and his school year was technically over, even if they officially let the students leave in the third week of June. He could allow Harry to remain here for another couple of hours, at least. As a reward of sorts for keeping to his potions and finally reaching his goals of getting healthy again. It was a very large relief after the shock and the fear of finding out that Harry had been so very ill that there was a possibility of his untimely death. A great weight had been removed from his mind now that Harry was truly on the mend and almost off of the potions course that he’d been forced to take to improve his ailing health. His youngest son was now no longer in danger of dying as a result of the poor treatment he had received from those Muggle beasts. He would one day find out where they lived, for he was a very patient man, but he never forgot such transgressions and he now held a grudge for them. He would one day find them and exact revenge upon them for the appalling treatment they had administered to his youngest son. One day.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry had been enjoying his endless free time and he had read a dozen books in just a few weeks, even as Draco, Blaise and Theo dragged him outside for a bit of fresh air. They were treating him a little rougher than before, now safe in the knowledge that Harry was almost completely healed and that a mere push or fall wouldn’t break any of his bones like a dry twig. Harry hadn’t realised exactly how careful and gentle they had been with him until they started treating him like he was normal, as if he was just like them.

Today was one such day. Harry, who had almost finished the current book that he was reading, had brought a second book outside with him as well, so that he could pick it up as soon as he finished the final ten pages of the first book, even as he occasionally watched Blaise and Theo enchant objects to throw at one another. They were practising defence and offense at the same time, as Harry looked up from turning the page to see Blaise shield himself from having his head taken off by a rock.

Draco was sat near him, Astoria very nearly in his lap as she rested back against him, chattering on about the few weeks of summer work that she had been accepted for at Twilfitt and Tattings. She was going to watch the seamstresses and learn from them. She was going to take another step closer to her dream job of designing and making robes. Her excitement to start was almost palpable.

It was Wednesday the eighteenth of June and Harry just could not wait to get back home now. Friday they would be catching the train back to London, just two days from now, on the twentieth. Rabastan was already at Malfoy Manor waiting for him. Harry had tried to use his illness to get sent home early, the day after Draco’s seventeenth birthday, which had been a few weeks before, on the fifth of June, but Dumbledore had refused and had told him that he wanted to speak to him once more before he left. Seeing as it was now the first of the last two full days of term, Harry was beginning to think that he’d been fobbed off with an excuse to keep him here and away from his family for a few extra weeks to limit the exposure he had to them. If he found out that that was the case then he was going to go ballistic.

It was just after dinner, however, when a seventh year Hufflepuff student approached him with a letter from Dumbledore. It instructed him to go to the Headmaster’s Office, and that he truly enjoyed Cockroach Clusters.

Harry sighed and resolved to get this little meeting over and done with. He wanted to go to bed. Well, no, he wanted to read another several books and then go to bed, after taking that damnable nutrient potion that would give him those awful night sweats, but still, he would rather be doing anything other than this.

He trudged his way up to the seventh floor and to the Headmaster’s office, giving the password to the stone gargoyle before heading up to the office. He barely knocked before letting himself in and he didn’t wait to be told to enter. He was annoyed enough as it was.

 

“Ah, Harry. Come sit, I have something important to tell you.”

 

Harry did as suggested and he sat himself down, wondering what this meeting was even about.

 

“I promised you on our last talk that you could come with me when I next found a Horcrux, if you still wish to that is.”

 

Harry blinked. “You’ve found another one? Where?!” Harry asked, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice. He would have double the bargaining chips if he had the sword and a Horcrux in his possession.

 

“I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast. A cave that I have been trying to locate for a very long time. You remember, of course, the time that Tom Riddle terrorised two children from his orphanage on their annual trip?”

 

“Yes.” Harry answered, easily recalling the memory shown to him.

 

“Harry, I promised that you could come with me…”

 

Harry wondered then, immediately, if the missing sword was going to cost him missing out on this trip. He controlled himself firmly and he refused to look at the empty plinth above Dumbledore’s head where the sword should have been.

 

“…and I stand by my word, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous.”

 

Harry almost breathed a sigh of relief, but he refused to show anything of the sort through his expressions or body language.

 

“I want to go.” He said after a short pause. “I have earned the right to be a part of this fight and I deserve the right to go after these Horcruxes and finish him for good.”

 

“Very well, then.” Dumbledore looked at him closely, almost studying him.

 

Harry almost glared back, his back straight, maintaining eye contact but steadfastly thinking of exams, his family, how cute Draco and Astoria were together, Draco’s seventeenth birthday, of which they’d had a small party for him in Harry’s personal rooms, a party that had gotten very much out of hand in a very short amount of time, and his last meeting with Remus, walking around the sunshine yellow hallways of Grimmauld Place.

 

“I will take you on one condition.” Dumbledore said.

 

“I didn’t realise that my right to destroy the man who killed my parents, and would have killed me too, would come with conditions.” Harry said fiercely.

 

“Listen to me, Harry.” Dumbledore told him firmly. “You are to obey any command that I might give you at once, without question. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you are to hide and if I tell you to leave me and save yourself, you will do as told. Am I clear?”

 

Harry considered what was being asked of him. He chewed the condition over in his mind, thinking that perhaps this was part of some sort of test to his loyalty, or perhaps his willingness to listen to any order given to him by Dumbledore. In the end he decided that it was worth it with a Horcrux at the end of the road and he decided to take the chance that he was being given. The risk was worth it. “You have my word.” He said calmly and clearly, meaning what he said.

 

“Very good. I want you to fetch your Invisibility Cloak and then meet me in the Entrance Hall, Harry. Quickly now.”

 

Harry stood and he left the office, leaving Dumbledore to stare out of the window at the sunset. Harry went back to his rooms and he collected several things that he wanted to take with him, including a small pendant in the shape of the Malfoy crest that Lucius had given him almost a year ago. He rarely wore it, but he’d been told that it was a very specific, very powerful Portkey that would take him back to Malfoy Manor if it was activated. It would be very useful to him if he got into any danger.

He took the cloak from where he kept it and he took the time to write a small letter, just in case anything happened to him or any spells were placed on him. He left it where he knew Draco would find it.

He left his rooms at an unhurried pace, making it seem like he was just merely strolling around the castle instead of his plans to leave it on a very dangerous adventure. If Lucius, Narcissa or Rabastan found out, he’d be dead. Hopefully the fact that it was about Voldemort, and technically saving him from destruction, would put him in good stead if anyone ever found out about this. After all, he was, technically, aligned with Voldemort himself now. He would not be a follower of his, _NEVER_ , but he knew about Lucius, the Lestranges, Greyback, he knew that all of them were Death Eaters and he was doing nothing about it. He would not stop his Fiancé from doing what he wanted, though he would not allow their children to be involved in anything of the sort. Rabastan would have to do that over his cold, dead body first.

Harry met up with Dumbledore at near enough eight O’clock at night, right where he’d said he’d be, beside the oaken front doors to Hogwarts.

 

“Wear your cloak now, Harry.” Dumbledore told him. “So that no one sees you leaving the castle.”

 

Harry nodded and he took the cloak from his pocket and wrapped it around himself. Dumbledore nodded and then set off, Harry trotting along beside him. His mind was already full of things they might encounter, the dangers they might meet and he had a moment of doubt…was this even real or was he just being lured out of Hogwarts to be kept a prisoner until he agreed to fight in the war? He consoled himself, he had the pendant, it would take him home and his family would look after him. If anything ever happened to him, Lucius would immediately take charge and get him back, even if Harry said he didn’t want to go back, because he would know then that he was being controlled with potions, or a curse, because Harry would never, willingly, give up on a family now that he had one and Lucius knew it.

 

“Are we Apparating?” He asked then.

 

“Yes.” Dumbledore said. “You can Apparate now, I believe?”

 

“No.” Harry said immediately. “The potions I’m taking interrupt focus and concentration, it was too dangerous for me to learn this year. I’m going to be learning and taking the test for my licence this summer.”

 

“Oh, well, no matter, I can assist you.” Dumbledore told him.

 

Alarm bells rang and Harry frowned. He once again reminded himself that he’d left a letter for Draco and he had the Malfoy pendant. All he had to do was touch it and think of home and he would be there in the blink of an eye.

Harry startled as he heard a ruckus up ahead and he squinted in the darkness to see what was happening.

 

“…and stay out!” Madam Rosmerta shouted loudly at a grubby-looking wizard whom she was forcibly throwing out of the Three Broomsticks. She looked up and noticed Dumbledore as the wizard grumbled and stumbled off into the darkness…Harry didn’t like that either and he kept an eye on him while keeping half an ear on Dumbledore. “Oh, hello, Albus…you’re out late.”

 

“Good evening, Rosmerta, good evening.” Dumbledore said politely. “Forgive me, but I’m off to the Hog’s Head…no offence, but I feel like a quieter atmosphere tonight.” He smiled then and looked off in the direction that the troublesome wizard had headed.

 

Dumbledore said his goodbyes and then carried on, Harry trotting after him once more as they turned a corner into a side street. Harry saw the sign for the Hog’s Head pub and grimaced as he remembered the disastrous meeting to set up the DA…they should have just held it on the bloody Quidditch pitch, they would have been less likely to be found out that way.

 

“We should be fine here.” Dumbledore said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Place your hand on my arm, Harry.”

 

Harry took a breath and did just that, calling on his Gryffindor bravery, and the overwhelming sense of curiosity that he had. Dumbledore turned and pulled Harry with him, there was the horrible sensation of being squeezed through a thick, tight rubber tube, the sensation of being compressed, of his eyeballs being pushed back into his skull, of not being able to breathe. Then as quickly as it came, just when he thought he would suffocate from the sensation, the tube ended and he came out the other side and he could gasp in lungfuls of air…Apparation was definitely not his favourite way to travel, he’d even take the floo over Apparation and he hated travelling by floo as well.

When he came back to himself, he could smell salt, and hear rushing waves. A light, refreshing breeze played with his hair and he looked around him, out at a moonlit sea and bright, starry sky. It was beautiful here. He pulled his cloak from his body and stuffed it into his pocket and then he turned to observe every inch of the place where they’d landed.

They were standing on an outcrop of rock, the water ferocious and dangerous looking as it churned and crashed below him. Behind him was a towering cliff, a sheer drop, black in the night, smooth like a mirror, and very foreboding.

 

“What do you think?” Dumbledore asked him.

 

“That I would not bring children here.” Harry said simply. “It’s not exactly the most pleasant of places to bring them for a daytrip.”

 

“They weren’t brought here precisely, there is a small village halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe the orphans were taken there for some sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only Tom Riddle and his young victims who visited this spot. No Muggle could reach this rock and no boats can approach the cliffs. I imagine that Tom climbed down using magic, and he brought two small children with him, likely for the pleasure of terrorising them.”

 

Harry was done with talking. “Why are we here? Where do we need to go?”

 

Dumbledore beckoned him over to the very edge of the rock, Harry was amazed to find little niches in the rock, like handholds. Harry resigned himself to climbing down it, to a lower rock that was in the ocean.

It was a treacherous climb, very slow going and Harry couldn’t even imagine a young Riddle and two smaller children doing this. It was a miracle that none of them had fallen into the dangerous waters and drowned.

 

“Lumos.” Dumbledore said quietly, his wand tip exploding into blinding light and Harry could suddenly see much clearer. He didn’t appreciate the view of the dark water below, nor the sheer cliff in front.

 

“Do you see?” Dumbledore asked him, holding his wand higher and pointing it forward. There was a small fissure in the rock face of the cliff that Harry assumed they needed to get to. “You do not object to getting a little wet?”

 

“No.” Harry replied automatically, still staring at the fissure, wondering what lay beyond it, deeper into the cliff. His heart was hammering and a strange sensation of excitement, curiosity and apprehension was building up in him.

 

Dumbledore slid from the rock with no more preamble and Harry watched him, as he swam towards the fissure in the base of the cliff, his lit wand held between his teeth.

Harry marvelled that the man had asked if he minded getting a little wet, but hadn’t actually asked him if he could swim. He couldn’t and as he followed Dumbledore before he lost him, he realised that he was in danger the moment his waterlogged clothes started weighing him down in the icy water. He followed the shimmering light as best he could as it shrunk and headed deeper into the cliff, thinking that it had been much, much easier to do this when he’d had webbed hands and feet.

He sort of doggy paddled, struggling in the dark, dangerous waters, his fingers numb, his body cold and now aching…this had been a mistake with his illness, he was likely going to get the flu again from this, or hypothermia. His family were going to kill him…if this little adventure didn’t do so first that was.

He made it through the fissure and he had to swim…sort of swim, down the cramped tunnel that was slimy and pitch dark. A small way into the tunnel and it curved off left and Harry followed it, seeing through his sodden hair that the tunnel extended far into the cliff. It was stunning, in a dangerous, natural sort of way.

He doggy paddled after Dumbledore, following the light from the wand tip, his legs striking out against the walls of the tunnel every now and then, as they were barely three feet wide and then finally, he saw Dumbledore rising out of the water and he was relieved when he found the stone steps, clambering numbly up them, water streaming from his sodden clothes and hair. He was shivering uncontrollably, almost spasming in the freezing air. He was almost certainly going to get sick from this, he could only hope that it didn’t interfere with his healing.

 

“Yes, this is the place.” Dumbledore said suddenly, while Harry was trying to wring out his clothes so that they weren’t so heavy, there was nothing that he could do about the spine-deep chill that was making his very bones ache.

 

“How can you tell?” Harry asked, looking up at the little cave they were in, at the rock walls and ceiling.

 

“It has known magic.” Dumbledore said simply. “This is merely an ante-chamber.” He carried on, turning slowly, looking at all the walls, concentrating on things that Harry couldn’t see or feel. “It is Voldemort’s obstacles that now stand in our way, rather than those that are made by nature.”

 

Harry watched, in slight bemusement, as Dumbledore caressed the walls, wandering around and speaking in languages he had not heard before. It was all very odd as he touched as much of the rock as possible, stopping occasionally, running his fingers back and forth over one patch of rock, until finally he stopped, his hand flat against a particular patch of stone wall.

 

“Here.” He said “We go on through here. The entrance is concealed.”

 

Harry didn’t ask how he knew it was this patch of rock over any other. Of course the man knew, given his level of understanding magic. Dumbledore drew his wand and for a moment, the outline of an archway appeared there, illuminated by a bright white light. Then the outline was gone and Harry frowned at it.

 

“What does it need?” He asked through his chattering teeth.

 

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry, I forgot.” Harry immediately found himself on the end of Dumbledore’s wand and all of his frozen muscles tensed, but at once all of Harry’s clothes were dry and warm and he sunk into them, like he would a hot bath. It felt amazing.

 

“Thank you.” He said gratefully. Maybe with this he might not actually get sick at all. He should have demanded that Dumbledore dry him off as soon as he got out of the water, but he’d been too awed and shocked to find himself here, in this place.

 

Dumbledore went back to studying just that one patch of rock and Harry tried not to sigh or break his concentration. He was warm and dry now, at least he wasn’t quite so miserable as before.

 

“Oh, surely not.” Dumbledore spoke up suddenly, making Harry jump in his skin. “So crude.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“We are required to make payment before we pass.” Dumbledore told him, taking out a short, silver knife from his robes.

 

Harry clicked as he put those puzzle pieces together and he grimaced in distaste. “A payment of blood?” He asked.

 

“Yes, blood. I did say that it was very crude.” He said, sounding disdainful and disappointed. “The idea, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, is that your enemy must weaken themselves in order to enter. Once again Lord Voldemort fails to grasp that there are much more terrible things than physical injury.”

 

Harry watched as Dumbledore raised his hand, and the knife. He thought about offering to do it himself, but he didn’t really want to. He didn’t want to be injured and it would make him feel better, even slightly, to watch Dumbledore bleed. It wouldn’t make up for all the old man had done to him, but it would help.

There was a spurt of scarlet as the blood splattered the rock wall, dark drops glittering in the low light from the wand tip, which Dumbledore then ran over his own arm, healing the wound instantly.

The silver outline of the archway had appeared in the wall once more, and this time it did not fade away. The blood splattered wall that had hidden the archway had just disappeared, leaving an opening into total darkness.

 

“After me, I think.” Dumbledore told him as he headed into the darkness. Harry could not have agreed more as he followed on the man’s heels.

 

He pulled out his own wand and whispered a soft ‘lumos’. He wanted to be able to see on his own, without relying on Dumbledore.

The inside of the cave was eerie…they were standing on the edge of a great, black lake, it was so vast that Harry couldn’t see the other side and the cavern was so high that the ceiling too, was out of sight.

A misty green light shone far away in what looked to be the middle of the lake. Harry guessed that that was their destination, that that was where the Horcrux was being kept.

 

“Let us walk, stay close to me and be careful not to slip into the water.”

 

Harry almost scoffed at that. He was no errant toddler who was unsteady on his feet and would slip or misstep so easily, but he held his tongue and said nothing.

They walked around the edge of the lake, Harry following Dumbledore, watching where he stepped and looking out for anything suspicious. It was the silence that was getting to him though, and the still, close air was making it hard for him to breathe, it was all very, very unnerving.

 

“Oh.” Dumbledore said suddenly, almost startling Harry into leaping backwards. Harry sneered at his back, so much for not misstepping into the water, he was going to fucking jump into it if Dumbledore kept doing that.

 

Dumbledore had detected something in the air and he started running his hands over thin air. A moment later he seemed to grab something. Keeping his hand clenched in mid-air, he raised his wand in the other and tapped his fist with the tip.

Immediately a thick, coppery green chain appeared in his fist. Another tap of the wand and the chain started to slide through Dumbledore’s hand, coiling like a snake with a clinking sound that echoed horribly, loudly, off of the rocky walls. It put Harry’s back up as he looked around cautiously.

Harry sucked in a breath of surprise as a tiny, ghostly boat broke the smooth surface of the lake, glowing as green as the chain.

 

“Magic always leaves traces behind.” Dumbledore said conversationally as the boat hit the rock with a small bump.

 

Harry let Dumbledore get into the boat first, and he followed carefully, refusing to go into the flimsy looking thing first, despite Dumbledore’s firm insistence.

Harry couldn’t sit in the boat properly, instead he crouched sideways with his knees jutting over the edge of it, even as he tried to curl up as much as he could so that no part of him was outside of the tiny vessel, which began to move forward via magic, as neither of them were rowing.

There was absolutely no sound as the ghostly green boat moved forward and that was eerie too. He looked down, seeing no ripples in the smooth, glass like water as the boat moved through it, he could no longer see the cavern walls and Harry reminded himself firmly that he had the pendant around his neck and he could use it at any point to get himself out safely, that he could be back home in as little as a moment if he needed to.

Then he saw it. A ghostly pale hand floating just below the surface of the water. He sucked in a shocked gasp.

 

“Professor, there’s a human hand in the water.” He said, bile rising in his throat as the hand floated away like some macabre version of a fish. He shivered as a roll ran down his spine, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest and hear his rather quick, ragged breathing in the deathly silent cavern.

 

“Yes.” Dumbledore replied, as if he’d known that there would be. Harry wanted to demand why he hadn’t been told about it, to prepare him for it, but then his mind wandered back to this being some elaborate test of Dumbledore’s, to see how he reacted to such things with an immediate, natural response. If he ever found out that that was the case…

 

Harry’s thoughts cut off, he stopped breathing, his heart lodged in his throat as his wand illuminated another patch of water and he saw a dead man lying face up, staring at him through dead, misty eyes, his hair and robes swirling around him as he floated just below the surface of the lake.

 

“What are they?” He asked, his voice much higher than usual, even to his own ears.

 

“We don’t need to worry about them for the moment.” Dumbledore said calmly.

 

“That wasn’t what I asked.” Harry said, decidedly not calm.

 

“There is nothing to be feared from a body, Harry, any more than there is anything to be feared from the darkness. Lord Voldemort, who secretly fears both, disagrees. But once again he reveals his own lack of wisdom. It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.”

 

Harry said nothing, but he found the very thought of dead bodies, and body parts, floating around in the water below him very unnerving and disturbing. He didn’t like it at all.

 

“It is alright, Harry.” Dumbledore told him, mistaking his unwillingness to argue as fear. “Such creatures that dwell in the dark and cold fear the light and warmth, which we will call forth if the need arises.”

 

“Fire.” Harry sighed, a little more settled now that he knew how to deal with the dead bodies. He did hope that they stayed where they were, in the water, but he was not so naïve as to think that they would, especially not when they took the Horcrux, as they were obviously here to protect it.

 

The boat bumped gently into something, Harry could only see Dumbledore’s back, so he didn’t know what it was, though he did hope it wasn’t a body, but it was much more likely that they had reached the middle of the lake, that they had reached the place where the Horcrux was hidden.

Dumbledore climbed out of the boat, and then turned to help Harry.

 

“Be sure not to touch the water.” He warned again.

 

Harry climbed carefully out of the boat onto the little island of dark rock. He looked around, but he couldn’t see any of the walls, there was only the island with a basin, which was on a pedestal, on top of the small chunk of rock they were stood on.

Dumbledore approached the basin and Harry followed. He looked into the basin to find it filled with an emerald green potion, the source of the misty green light that was illuminating the cave with an eerie green glow that could be seen from the entrance to the cave…which couldn’t be seen now.

Dumbledore pushed back the sleeve of his robe and he reached out his hand to touch the potion.

 

“Don’t touch it! You don’t know what it is or what it does.” Harry said angrily.

 

“I cannot touch.” Dumbledore said, looking at him. “See? I cannot approach any nearer than this. You try.”

 

Curious, but also very cautious, Harry did so slowly and carefully and he encountered an invisible barrier that stopped his fingers from getting any closer to the basin. No matter how hard he pushed his hand against the barrier, his fingers encountered only solid and inflexible air.

 

“Out of the way, Harry.” Dumbledore told him.

 

Harry bristled at the rudeness of the dismissal, but he stood back and just watched instead, letting Dumbledore take all the risks and reminding himself that he had his pendant if he needed it.

 

“This potion cannot be reached by hand, it can’t be vanished, parted, scooped up or siphoned away, nor can it be transfigured, charmed or otherwise made to change its nature.”

 

“Then there must be something that you’re missing.” Harry pointed out simply.

 

“Oh, no, I believe I know the answer.” He said, twirling his wand and then catching the crystal goblet that appeared out of thin air. “It must be drunk.”

 

“Ah.” Harry replied, understanding all at once. “Are we back to weakening our enemies before they get the Horcrux that’s hidden here?”

 

“We are, Harry, yes.”

 

“What do I do if it kills you?” Harry inquired seriously.

 

“Oh, I doubt that it’ll kill me. Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the person who reached this island.”

 

Harry severely doubted that, but then he didn’t really know Voldemort like Dumbledore did, so he didn’t argue.

 

“Voldemort would not want anyone who reached through his defences this far to be immediately killed. He’d want to know how they got here, and why they were here first, Harry and then I would imagine that he would kill them himself. Do not forget that Voldemort believes that he alone knows of his Horcruxes and he would want to know how someone else had come to know of them.”

 

Harry nodded then, conceding the point. That did sound like Voldemort, but moreover, it sounded logical.

 

“It is going to be your job here tonight, Harry, to ensure that I drink this potion, regardless of what it might do. It might paralyse me, make me forget why I’m here, create so much pain that I am distracted or render me incapable in some other way, but you must ensure that I keep drinking it.”

 

If Harry hadn’t known any better, he would have believed that this was why he had been brought on this hunt, because it took two people, but Dumbledore had not had any clue what he would encounter tonight, so it was impossible for him to have known that it would have needed two people to take this Horcrux. Unless this was an elaborate test of his loyalty or something that had been set up by Dumbledore in the first place, or else Dumbledore had come here beforehand to scope it out, realised that it took two people, and then come back to include him. Harry didn’t know what to think about any of this anymore.   

He nodded his head in agreement to hide his cautiousness and he watched, in almost morbid curiosity, as Dumbledore lowered the goblet into the potion and it sunk as if the barrier had never existed. When the goblet was full, Dumbledore raised it to his mouth.

 

“Your good health, Harry.”

 

Harry’s face contorted at that, taking the words as a jibe to his poor health and the potions he had to take and for a moment, he hoped that the green potion would cause unbearable pain. Shocked by the turn of his own thoughts, Harry pushed them away sharply. He’d been spending too much time with Rodolphus it seemed.

Dumbledore had drained the goblet and, almost apprehensively, Harry watched and waited for something to happen. Nothing did except Dumbledore had closed his blue eyes and plunged the goblet back into the potion, refilling it, and then drank it once more.

This carried on in silence, with no visible or discernible effects, for three more gobletfuls of the potion. Halfway through the fourth, Dumbledore staggered and fell forward. His eyes were still closed and he was breathing heavily. His face was twitching, his grip on the goblet was slackening.

Harry reached for the unsteady goblet before it could fall, holding it steady.

Dumbledore panted and then he spoke in a terrified voice that Harry had never heard from him before.

 

“I don’t want…don’t make me…don’t like…want to stop.”

 

“You can’t.” Harry said sternly. “You’ve got to keep drinking.”

 

Harry forced the goblet back to Dumbledore’s mouth and he tipped the potion into his mouth, which was open on another plea not to continue. Harry felt sick and repulsed, but he steeled himself.

Over and over he forced himself to refill the goblet and he kept tipping it down Dumbledore’s throat, forcing him to drink the green, glowing potion, not knowing what it was doing or what the final result of it would be.

 

“Don’t hurt them, don’t hurt them.” Dumbledore moaned. “Please, please, it’s my fault, hurt me instead…”

 

Harry was putting his money on the potion being some sort of psychotic concoction that forced the drinker to see things that weren’t there, perhaps even feeling the pain of whatever they were seeing too.

He refilled the goblet and forced the green potion down Dumbledore’s throat, again and again he did this, doing so quickly, to maybe empty the potion before the effects got too bad or too much for Dumbledore to handle, or maybe just to get out of this creepy, eerie cave quicker, because he really didn’t want to stay here for much longer, he wanted to leave, but they needed the Horcrux first, and the only way to get it was to tip whatever this potion was down Dumbledore’s throat at all costs.

 

“Please, please, please.” Dumbledore moaned, as if in actual pain. “Not that, not that, I’ll do anything…” He promised.

 

Dumbledore started yelling then, as if he were in acute pain. Harry scooped up the tenth gobletful of glowing, green potion and he felt it as the goblet scraped the bottom of the basin. He looked and he saw how much the potion had gone down. He could see a dark, blurry outline of an object in the bottom, clearly the hidden Horcrux. They were almost there.

 

“I want to die!” Dumbledore screamed in anguish. “Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!”

 

Harry forced the potion down the man’s throat, then another gobletful, and no sooner had it been drunk than Dumbledore was yelling for Harry to kill him at the top of his lungs. Harry felt wretched and he rather thought that this was going to traumatise him…he should not be exposed to this sort of horror. He was only sixteen after all.

Dumbledore suddenly fell backwards and Harry’s heart about stopped, it had been beating so fast that Harry thought he was having a heart attack.

 

He dropped to his knees and prodded Dumbledore with his wand. “Rennervate.” He murmured. Nothing happened. “Rennervate.” He said louder, stronger, his voice echoing repeatedly in the cavern. He didn’t like that, he didn’t want to cause any noise in this place, he didn’t want to disturb the bodies in the lake.

 

Dumbledore’s eyelids flickered under the askew half-moon glasses. Harry’s heart leapt.

 

“Water.” Dumbledore croaked.

 

Harry blinked at the request, but he nodded, understanding that drinking that much potion would leave a terrible taste in the mouth.

He stood and went to get the goblet from where he’d left it in the basin. He saw the golden locket lying underneath it, the potion low enough now for it to be grabbed and he took it, slipping it into his pocket. This is what he’d come for, this was an actual Horcrux hunt, not some sort of elaborate test, though perhaps it was still that after all, he’d need to tread carefully from here on out.

 

He pointed his wand at the goblet in his other hand. “Aguamenti.” He said clearly, watching as the goblet filled with fresh water. He hunched down beside Dumbledore and held it out to him, helping him to drink…only the goblet was empty.

 

Harry closed his eyes as he realised what was happening. Voldemort had planned this meticulously, his last attempt to protect his precious Horcrux. He hauled Dumbledore to the boat, the man still moaning for water. There was only one way for someone to get water in this cave, he realised, as he looked to the mirror black surface of the lake…he was not feeding anyone water that was swimming with dead bodies. He was not even going to touch that water. He moved to get into the boat himself, but the water started churning, everywhere marble white heads and hands were reaching out of the lake and too late, Harry realised that Dumbledore himself had dipped a hand into the lake to bring the water to his parched mouth.

He was frozen to the spot, almost sick with fear as a sightless, milky pale man emerged onto the rock in front of him, reaching for him. Harry’s heart almost burst with fear.

Men, women and even children crawled out of the lake, looking with sightless, cloudy eyes, grabbing at him, trying to drag him into the lake to drown him, to make him like them. Their hands were ice cold, and strong in a way he’d never known before, pulling, dragging and he all but froze in terror before his mind kicked back in as he was pulled uselessly over the rock, as something else grabbed his leg and pulled, knocking him from his feet as he was dragged down onto his back as he was easily pulled into the water of the lake to be drowned.

 

“Incendio!” Harry yelled, throwing as much power into the spell as he could, keeping the fire around him as he scrambled back from the water, panic almost making him completely stupid as he just wanted to get away from the horrors around him, before he calmed himself slightly and kicked the boat off of the rock and clambered in, trying to keep the bodies away with his barrier of fire.

 

“The Horcrux, Harry.” Dumbledore moaned, his face as pale as the bodies, his forehead dripping with sweat.

 

“Don’t speak.” Harry said sternly, though his voice wavered like a child’s. “Save your strength or you’re going to die, who knows what that potion was, what it did, or what it is still doing.”

 

Harry watched, his throat burning with the urge to vomit the fear induced bile that was building up, as the bodies shrank away from the fire, away from the light and warmth, but they were still all around the boat, surrounding them just outside the impassable fire. Harry wondered if he’d have to keep this spell up until they were free of the cave entirely…he would not be able to swim if he had to keep his wand in his hand.

They reached the bank with a gentle bump and Harry clambered over Dumbledore, his wand held aloft, and he got his feet back on the rock. He hauled Dumbledore out after him.

 

“The Horcrux, Harry, or it was all for nothing.” Dumbledore tried again, but his voice was so faint that Harry was worried that he’d drop dead on him at any moment. Harry didn’t bother answering him.

 

The little boat sank once more, as soon as Dumbledore was out of it, and as it did the bodies too sunk back under the water, which was calm and peaceful once more, mirror smooth and with not a ripple to show for what had just happened, ready for the next unfortunate fucker to come this way and try their luck.

Harry took Dumbledore’s arm, keeping himself and the man well away from the edge of the lake and he kept his ring of fire around them both, just in case, because those bodies had really creeped him out and he was scared, almost terrified out of his mind and he kept having visions of a hand reaching out of the lake to grab at his ankle to yank him into the water, as had happened back on the rock with the basin, and his leg throbbed with the reminder of it and he knew that he would have a bruise there…he’d be having nightmares later, of those icy cold, dead arms wrapping around him and dragging him to his death in this horrific lake that no one would ever find.

 

“I am weak.” Dumbledore muttered, almost to himself.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us back.” He said, before murmuring to himself. “Somehow.”

 

“The protection was…after all…well designed.” Dumbledore carried on faintly. “One alone could not have done it…you did well, Harry, very well.”

 

“Don’t talk.” Harry said more firmly, worried about how slurred Dumbledore’s speech was, how much his feet dragged, how heavy he was becoming.

 

“The archway will have sealed itself again…my knife.”

 

“There’s no need. I injured my arm when I fell on the rock.” Harry said, giving up telling the man to stop talking, he clearly wasn’t listening to him.

 

“Here.” Dumbledore said, pointing to a particular spot. Harry wiped his blooded arm on the wall and the archway opened once more after the payment of blood, letting them out free and back into the water filled crevice.

 

It was a million times more difficult to doggy paddle with the dead weight of Dumbledore too, and Harry swallowed a lot of sea water, choking on it, burping slightly as he heaved into his throat, to remove the water from his lungs and stomach. He wanted to stop and take a break, he was so tired, but he knew that he would sink the moment he stopped, so he forced himself to carry on…this was definitely going to adversely affect his healing body. He wasn’t well enough to be doing this. His family were going to kill him.

Once they were safe on a rock, the nearest one that Harry had seen, he took a moment to rest and recover, shivering and soaked to the bone, he was utterly miserable as he tried to figure out how to get the deathly ill Dumbledore back to Hogwarts when he couldn’t Apparate and certainly couldn’t use his Malfoy pendant Portkey. It came to him suddenly and he sighed.

 

“Dobby!” He called out.

 

The exuberant house elf landed on the small rock, happy for all of two moments, then he looked around and saw where they were, his face falling and his ears drooping, all before he could even greet them.

 

“There’s no time, Dobby.” Harry said, panting with panic and exhaustion. “We need to get back to Hogwarts, now. Take Dumbledore, I can get myself back safe, but not him. Get him to the Medical Wing.”

 

“No!” Dumbledore moaned weakly. “Severus. I need Severus.”

 

Harry looked at the pale, weakened old man and thought that a medi-witch was going to be much more use to him than Snape, but he didn’t have time to argue. He didn’t really care at this moment in time.

 

“Take him to Snape.” Harry told Dobby. “Quickly.”

 

The house elf nodded and Harry watched them go, then he grabbed his pendant in a tight fist and he thought of home, of Lucius and Narcissa, of Rabastan, and a moment later he slammed into the ground of the receiving room, soaking wet, icy cold, deathly pale and struggling to breathe through fear, horror, cold and a delayed reaction of panic.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Lucius was alerted to something wrong at half past nine that night when the charms he had put on two matching pendants, worn by both of his sons, started tugging on his consciousness. He flicked out his wand, cutting off Xerxes in mid-sentence and alerting Narcissa to something being wrong.

A simple spell alerted him that it was Harry’s charms that were going haywire. Harry who only wore his pendant occasionally, despite Lucius trying to insist that he wore it permanently. He hadn’t told Harry that it contained a monitoring charm, only that it was a powerful Portkey, so Harry only wore it when he believed that he would need an escape route. It was very telling in itself that he was wearing it currently, and he obviously needed it too, as the charms on it were going berserk. His son was not only in danger, but he was scared too. He stood immediately, his robes snapping behind him.

 

“What is it, Lucius?” Narcissa demanded.

 

“Harry’s charms are going off.” He said tightly, moving to the receiving room down the hall, to the floo connected fireplace.

 

“Harry rarely wears his pendant.” Narcissa said, understanding immediately as her face hardened as she heard that her son was in danger and she followed her husband silently.

 

“I know, let us see what the problem is.” Lucius said as he went through the floo to Hogwarts. The Headmaster’s office was empty, which was unusual for this time of night.

 

Lucius didn’t bother calling out or waiting, he set straight on the path to Harry’s private rooms and once he reached the portrait door, he opened it with his wand, not bothering to knock. He would waste no pleasantries when Harry’s charms were informing him that he was scared and in danger.

 

“Harry?!” He called out loudly, worriedly.

 

“Harry, dear?” Narcissa called out as she headed to his bedroom and bathroom, both of which were dark and empty of her younger son. “He’s not here, Lucius!”

 

“This might explain things.” Lucius said tightly, an unfurled letter in his hands.

 

“What does it say?”

 

“It is for Draco. Harry has gone off with Dumbledore for the night. He asks that if he comes back acting differently, then he is to be checked for potions or spells, but otherwise gives no indication of where he has gone, what he might be doing, or when he might be back.”

 

“Has the charm stopped alerting?”

 

“No.” Lucius sighed. “It is getting stronger. Wherever he is, he is in danger and he’s scared. His charm has never gone off like this before.”

 

“We must find him.” Narcissa said fiercely.

 

“We do not know where to start looking, dear. At least he has his pendant on him, he can get home if he needs to.”

 

“Then we need to be there for him.” Narcissa insisted, striding back off to the Headmaster’s office. If she found out that he had needlessly harmed her young son or put him in danger, she would curse him, repeatedly, and she wouldn’t stop.

 

She flooed back to her home and was nearly accosted by Rabastan as soon as she landed. Xerxes must have called him immediately after she and Lucius had left.

 

“Where is Harry? Is he okay? Is he safe?”

 

“We didn’t find him. He left a letter. He’s left the castle with Dumbledore to do only Merlin knows what!” She fretted. “I will have his hide when I next see him! How dare he worry us in such a way?”

 

“He…he’s gone?” Rabastan asked faintly. “With Dumbledore?!”

 

“Yes, we have no idea where he might be, he never said.” Narcissa said, sitting in the nearest seat, all but collapsing into it as Lucius came through the floo.

 

“Where would he have gone with that man?” Xerxes asked.

 

“I couldn’t say.” Lucius sighed.

 

“We need to do something.” Rabastan said, very distressed at the idea of his young Fiancé being scared and in danger.

 

“There is nothing that we can do.”

 

“Isn’t there a tracker in the pendant that you gave to the boys? I had a similar one for Rodolphus and Rabastan when they were boys and I had a tracker in those.” Xerxes said.

 

“There is, but it isn’t picking up Harry’s location, which usually indicates that he’s at Hogwarts, only he isn’t. Wherever he is, it is highly influxed with magic that is blocking the tracker from working, likely by design. ”

 

“So Dumbledore has taken him to place where a tracker won’t find him?” Rodolphus asked. “Is this on purpose, do you believe? Or a coincidence?”

 

“We cannot say for certain, but nothing with that man is a coincidence.” Narcissa said furiously. “Harry’s letter said only to check him for potions or spells if he came back acting differently. I take that to mean that Harry himself is worried about what this little jaunt of Dumbledore’s is for.”

 

“Dumbledore wouldn’t risk brainwashing him personally.” Rodolphus said. “If it ever came to light that he was brainwashing students, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. There must be others there willing to get their hands dirty.”

 

“Moody.” Rabastan growled. “He’s Dumbledore’s friend, and he wouldn’t hesitate over forcing Harry to do Dumbledore’s bidding. He’s a very powerful wizard too, he could do it.”

 

“We should have taken him out fifteen years ago.” Rodolphus growled darkly.

 

“This waiting is unbearable!” Narcissa interrupted worriedly. “He has his pendant on him, why doesn’t he use it?”

 

“He needs to be able to touch it, dear.” Lucius reminded her. “If they have his hands tied…”

 

“If they have dared tie him up to curse him, or to force a potion on him, I will not stop until they are all dead.” Rabastan declared, a cruel gleam in his dark blue eyes and a sneer curling his mouth.

 

“I will not wait as my son is scared and in danger, Lucius! I want him here, now.”

 

“There is nothing that I can do, Cissa, we don’t know where he is.” Lucius tried to calm her. “He has his pendant on him, he is a smart, powerful boy, he can look after himself. Look what he did to Rowle in our own bathroom, none of us expected that of him. He will be underestimated by others also.”

 

“He is only sixteen, Lucius. He shouldn’t have to look after himself.”

 

“No, he shouldn’t, but he can if he needs to, dear. He’s not some useless little boy who needs to be shielded and protected at all times and he’s not stupid either. He rarely wears that pendant, despite my steadfast insistence that he wears it at all times, but he took it with him tonight for a reason.”

 

Narcissa took a deep breath and she nodded her understanding. Harry had taken that pendant as a means of escape, if he needed to he would use it, unknowing as he was of the monitoring charms on it also.

It was agonising though, watching as ten O’clock came creeping ever closer, and with Lucius saying that the tugging of the charms was only getting stronger. Harry was being put in more danger than ever and his fear was only increasing.

 

“What could they possibly be doing to him?” She fretted as Lucius told them that Harry’s charms were registering off the scale fear and danger…his very life was currently being threatened and he was so scared that he would be almost on a level of blind panic, which could be dangerous in itself.

 

“I dread to think on it, Cissa.” Lucius said, very worried himself.

 

Harry’s fear suddenly ebbed a little, and the charm measuring the danger to his body and life decreased too. Only slightly, but it was enough.

 

“I believe whatever it was to be over now.” Lucius said. “The pull of the charms has lessened.”

 

“Have they taken it off of him?” Narcissa asked quickly.

 

“No, it is still registering, just not as high as before. The danger and fear has passed slightly, but he is still feeling some lingering effects.”

 

“You don’t think Dumbledore would have taken him back to Hogwarts?”

 

“We will wait and see if his pendant places him back in Hogwarts or not. He is still in the area of high magic and cannot be located at the moment.”

 

They waited in silence, all of them worried and fretting, all of them trying not to imagine what was happening to Harry.

Then, all of a sudden, everything changed. Lucius stood up straighter, inhaling a little deeper, just a moment before a soaking wet, incredibly pale Harry landed on the receiving room floor, coughing and shivering so violently that he looked to be almost convulsing. He was struggling to breathe.

Narcissa leapt up, but Rabastan reached him first and he used brute force to rip the soaked clothes from Harry’s body, using a strength that he hadn’t had since before Azkaban. The clothes were so wet that they were dripping and they were ice cold, as was Harry’s pale, bloodless skin underneath. He smelt of salt too, he’d been in the ocean, so late at night too, he was going to be freezing…it was then that they noticed the blood splattered over him, he had been injured too.

Lucius pointed his wand at the fire and ignited it, watching as the flames roared into existence, before he aimed his wand at Harry and dried him off. Rodolphus helped Rabastan to strip off his robes and shirt to share body heat and the younger brother flinched as he came into contact with Harry’s frozen skin, pulling him from a puddle that had already formed on the floor, but Rabastan got over the shock of the cold quickly, holding Harry tight to his body and shuffling over to the fire, sitting directly in front of it.

 

“Pimsey!” Narcissa called.

 

“Mistress calls for Pim…”

 

“Hot chocolate, now.” She ordered, before turning back to Rabastan. “Is he conscious?”

 

Rabastan used his hand to pull Harry’s head up to face him and he found himself looking down into wide open, terror filled eyes and his heart seized in his chest, if Harry was not breathing so hard, so rapidly and noisily, then he might have believed his Fiancé to be dead in his arms.

 

“He’s conscious, but unresponsive. He’s just staring outwards without blinking.”

 

“Let me see.” Xerxes commanded, and as their expert on all curses, he bent down and checked Harry over, murmuring in languages as old as time itself, while his wand passed over the young, frozen boy curled in Rabastan’s lap, shaking so violently that he was jerking uncontrollably. “He hasn’t been cursed and he’s not under any effects of potions. He’s just frozen with cold and fear. He needs to be warmed up and comforted.”

 

Narcissa knelt carefully by Rabastan’s shoulder and she touched the icy face of her younger son, running her thumb gently over his cheek and chin, brushing her fingertips over his neck and jaw. Over and over she touched, stroking him rhythmically, her heart breaking as she listened to him hyperventilate, his eyes wide and staring at things that they could only guess at. She watched as Rabastan stroked Harry’s back, ran his fingers through his hair, murmured to him gently to try and soothe him, to bring him back into this room, with them, and take him from where he had been before, stuck in whatever nightmarish things that had driven him to this state in the first place.

Harry’s breathing eased down, his shivering lessened, and then eventually he blinked for the first time, then again, and then he seemed to come back to himself and he realised where he was and who was around him. He slipped his arms immediately around Rabastan and he held on tightly, turning his head slightly to press it against Rabastan’s naked chest.

 

“Did…did you know that you can animate dead bodies?” He asked into the silence, his wavering voice very high and frightened. If they had not watched his lips move, they would never have guessed that the words were Harry’s own, his voice was unrecognisable.

 

Narcissa’s stomach dropped at the horror that those simple words implied.

 

“You were expose to an inferius?” Rodolphus asked sharply.

 

Harry said nothing more, he just clung on tight to Rabastan, his breathing laboured and his skin still icy to the touch.

Lucius moved to find the source of the blood and found Harry’s elbow and forearm bloody. It looked to be grazed, as if he had fallen on it, and it would scab over once healed. He cleaned it with his wand and conjured a dressing for it. It was as he was directing the bandage to wrap around Harry’s arm that he spotted the first signs of bruising coming out.

He stopped the bandage from winding around the small grazes and looked more closely at the deep red marks that were beginning to go dark…it was in the shape of fingers.

 

“Were you attacked by this inferius?” He asked in horror.

 

Harry nodded jerkily and he curled up tighter into Rabastan. “They were everywhere!” Harry said, breathless with fear and his voice still too high and abnormal.

 

“There was more than one?” Rabastan asked him seriously.

 

“More, more…” Harry trailed off and his body convulsed.

 

“Why were you exposed to this sort of thing? What possible reason could Dumbledore have that would warrant this sort of danger?”

 

“Dumbledore…he’s weak.” Harry said. “Attacked us both. He’s going to die. I barely managed…I only just got us out alive. We almost died.” Harry sobbed then and Rabastan held him tighter.

 

The four of them looked at one another over Harry’s head. Nothing was making any sense. Harry and Dumbledore had been attacked by inferi and Dumbledore might actually die from the attack.

 

“Harry, listen to me. Why were you taken from the school? What happened? Where did Dumbledore take you?”

 

Harry just shivered and curled up tighter.

 

“I think he needs to rest first.” Rabastan said, stroking Harry’s head and back.

 

“See if he’ll drink this, it’ll help.” Narcissa said, handing over the hot chocolate.

 

Rabastan held it carefully up to Harry’s mouth, thankful that he had recovered enough, that he was now stable enough to do this without injuring Harry further, or spilling the warm drink on him.

Harry sipped at the drink tipped against his lips, then as the warm drink soothed and warmed him, he gulped it, his hands coming up to cradle Rabastan’s hand that was holding the cup steady for him, drinking all of it down in one go.

Rabastan gently wiped Harry’s top lip and was grateful to see some colour returned to him.

 

“They tried to drown me.” Harry said, quivering like a leaf. “There were hundreds of them, even _children_. One grabbed my arm and was pulling me to the water, another grabbed my ankle and pulled my off my feet. If I hadn’t remembered that they were afraid of fire, I would have died.”

 

“Where were you?”

 

“I don’t know.” Harry replied.

 

“Why did you go there?”

 

“I was taken there, Apparation, I didn’t know where it was or why.”

 

“You were in the ocean?”

 

Harry nodded jerkily.

 

“I think you need to go up to bed and rest.”

 

“Hogwarts. I need to get back right away.” Harry said.

 

“You are not going anywhere except to bed!” Lucius told him firmly.

 

Harry stubbornly shook his head.

 

“Harry, you are deathly pale and ill, you need to go to bed.” Narcissa told him more gently.

 

Harry shook his head again. “I need to get back to the school, quickly.”

 

“For what purpose?” Lucius demanded.

 

“I can’t tell you yet.” Harry said, gaining more colour and more of himself as time passed in front of the blazing fire, wrapped in Rabastan’ arms.

 

“This is unacceptable, Harry!” Lucius burst out angrily. “You do not get to put your life in danger, going off with Dumbledore and then telling us that you were attacked by inferi and then not offer any sort of explanation! You are already very unwell, just because you have been able to cut down on your potions does not mean that you can suddenly become negligent with your health! You are staying here and that is final, I will hear no more on the matter. Now, you are to go up to bed, you will go to sleep and you will stay there until a Healer has come to see you tomorrow and we see how much damage you have done to yourself during this dangerous venture.”  

 

Harry looked at him strangely. As if he hadn’t thought that he would be ordered around. If that was the case then Lucius would remove such an impression from his younger son. Adopted or not, Harry was his son now, and he would not have allowed Draco to do the same, and he would not let Harry get away with it either. He was their Father, he _would_ be listened to, he would be respected and obeyed.

 

“Do not give me that look.” He said. “You are my son and you will not come here, looking to be at death’s door, telling me such things, and then just swan off back to school as if nothing has happened. You are staying here, where we can keep a close eye on you, and where we can have you assessed by a medical professional. Now, go to bed.”

 

Harry looked like he might actually refuse and Lucius was starting to lose his temper.

 

“Do not disobey me, Harry. You will not like the consequences after what you’ve told me tonight.”

 

Harry bit his lip and furrowed his brow. He suddenly looked several years younger…pale and vulnerable, and Lucius regretted his rather harsh words. He hunched down smoothly and brushed the hair from Harry’s face. He was reminded sharply that Harry was just sixteen, that he’d only been with a real family for less than a year. He had not had the greatest start in life and he was still getting used to people caring about him, just because he was family and for no other reason.

 

“Everything will be fine.” He assured the young boy, whose green eyes were even more shadowed and haunted than they’d been before tonight. He was never going to forgive Dumbledore for this, for exposing Harry to such dangers, to the inferi that had clearly traumatised Harry. “Just go to bed, go to sleep. If you need a dreamless sleep potion, you may have one.”

 

Harry nodded immediately at that suggestion, and Lucius understood Harry’s reluctance to go to bed all at once. Whatever had happened tonight, it was much worse than just meeting up with the inferi, something else had happened, or something more than Harry was saying had happened, if he was too afraid to go up to bed on his own and go to sleep. He _had_ been traumatised and he’d need support through this, all because Dumbledore had thought it a good idea to expose a young boy to such things. The man needed to be mentally assessed.

Pimsey was called again and sent away just as quick to get the potion and Rabastan helped Harry to take it.

Harry moved by himself then, reaching out for his robe.

 

“Leave that, Harry. It will be sorted for you.” Lucius told him gently.

 

Harry shook his head and dragged the soaked mass towards him. He searched it and pulled out a small vial…his nutrient potion.

 

“Ah, I see. Take that one too and then we’ll get you up to bed, okay?”

 

Harry nodded, holding the vial out to Rabastan, who opened it and helped Harry to drink the potion inside it, grateful that he now had the motor skills to actually be of any assistance to Harry. Despite the situation, he was very pleased, deep down, to be needed in such a way, to be able to help his young Fiancé who had turned to him in his moment of fear and need, relying on him, as he had relied heavily on Harry back at the beginning of their betrothal. It felt amazing to now return the favour to Harry, who had not hesitated to lean on him in this moment of terror and shock, trusting him, trusting that he would help him through this, to comfort him and do what needed to be done to ease, even slightly, the fear and panic that he was feeling still.

Harry reached back to the robe and started pulling some things from the pockets…his wand, his invisibility cloak and something gold that glinted that Lucius thought might have been a Galleon or some such. It was the cloak that angered him the most, as Dumbledore had obviously asked Harry to take it with him to prevent anyone seeing him leaving the school with Harry, an underaged school boy.

 

“Take him up.” Lucius said to Rabastan. “Make sure that he is warm before leaving him. I have a visit to make tonight.”

 

“To Severus?” Narcissa asked.

 

Lucius nodded and watched as Rodolphus helped Rabastan to stand from the floor under Harry’s weight and he watched as Harry was carried to bed, still paler than usual, but at least he was no longer staring dead ahead with those too wide eyes that wouldn’t blink.

He wanted answers, and he wasn’t willing to demand them from Harry tonight with him in the state that he was. That left him only one option…Dumbledore. Dumbledore who, according to Harry, was near death. So he was going to go and see Severus to see what he made of everything, and see if he might have been told about what was happening. Either way he would get to the bottom of this, and he would not have Harry dragged into anything of this sort ever again, he was a boy still, a sixteen year old boy, but more than that, he was his son and he would not have anyone putting his son in such dangers.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Today is our third year anniversary, which is the only reason I’m posting this chapter up, as I swore that I would stay on my Dracken universe fics for the remainder of 2017. I will carry on posting for this fic in 2018 now, lovelies, so don’t be alarmed just because I’m not posting, this fic is not being abandoned, I have not hit a wall or writer’s block with it, rather the opposite, I am just focusing on my Dracken fics for a few months, that’s all.  
> Those on my facebook also know that real life is kicking me at the moment. My beloved cat, Jethro, has been diagnosed with severe hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, or in layman’s terms heart disease. It is severe, he’s been declared terminal, and the vets don’t know how he’s still alive. He has days, maybe a week or two left, and I have to have some difficult talks about euthanasia in the coming days now. So I think the best way to describe myself at the moment is emotionally unstable, which will only get worse when he does inevitably pass, so everything is up in the air at the moment, so I might need some time to myself when that happens, but for the moment he’s okay, he’s stable and I’m keeping him comfortable.  
> But outside of that, I do hope that you’ve enjoyed this chapter, now that I’m moving the plot along quickly, and the next chapter we’ll be in the summer months, but that won’t be until 2018 now, as I have too much of the Drackens to deal with at the moment, but this is our third year, it’s special, and I wanted to celebrate with you readers by giving you a new chapter. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for listening and understanding, for reading and reviewing, and I will see you all with more of this story in 2018 now, until then, lovelies,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


	22. Opportunistic Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the wonderfully amazing Kit and Pipa, who celebrate their first month wedding anniversary together, today. Congratulations on your anniversary, lovelies and have a happy Valentine’s Day together!
> 
> Last Time
> 
> Lucius nodded and watched as Rodolphus helped Rabastan to stand from the floor under Harry’s weight and he watched as Harry was carried to bed, still paler than usual, but at least he was no longer staring dead ahead with those too wide eyes that wouldn’t blink.  
> He wanted answers, and he wasn’t willing to demand them from Harry tonight with him in the state that he was. That left him only one option…Dumbledore. Dumbledore who, according to Harry, was near death. So he was going to go and see Severus to see what he made of everything, and see if he might have been told about what was happening. Either way he would get to the bottom of this, and he would not have Harry dragged into anything of this sort ever again, he was a boy still, a sixteen year old boy, but more than that, he was his son and he would not have anyone putting his son in such dangers.

Chapter Twenty-Two – Opportunistic Encounters

 

Harry woke up confused and aching. It took just a moment for his mind to catch up with where he was, why and what had happened and he forced himself upright and he looked around to see that he was in his bedroom back at Malfoy Manor. He groped for the pendant around his neck and gave it a tight squeeze. He exhaled with sheer relief that he was home safe before he turned to where he’d left his things the night before. He’d purposefully placed the invisibility cloak over his wand and the locket when Rabastan had carried him to bed.

He took the cloak off of the bedside table and he picked up the locket, but immediately he realised that something was wrong. He remembered Slytherin’s locket from the memory that showed Hepzibah Smith showing it off to Riddle…this was not the same locket that had been in that memory.

Afraid that someone had switched out the lockets while he slept, he opened it desperately, only to find a piece of parchment within it. He carefully took it out and read the message inside.

The locket was a fake, but no one in this house had taken the real one…it had been taken before he and Dumbledore had even arrived there at that cave, perhaps even years before. Someone had found the Horcrux first and taken it…destroyed it according to the letter from R. A. B. Harry cursed, as this meant that he had suffered through such trauma for nothing. Because it meant that he didn’t have an actual Horcrux to use to bargain with Voldemort.

He consoled himself, he still had the sword. He had the knowledge of the Horcruxes and perhaps that would be enough.

He reclined back against his pillows and he frowned, trying to work out who this R. A. B. might be, why they would have gone against Voldemort without telling anyone and, more importantly, had they actually destroyed the locket or not? If not, where was it and who had it now?

He sighed and put the locket back under the cloak and he laid back down, vaguely remembering being threatened not to move from his bed until he’d seen a Healer. He did feel rather bad and despite the amount of sleep he must have had, he was very tired still.

He did wonder how Dumbledore was doing, or more importantly if that potion had killed him or not. He wondered if Snape had figured out what potion it was, and how to remedy it, or if he’d even had the time, considering Dumbledore had been getting weaker and weaker very fast, before they’d reached the outside of that cave even.

Harry closed his eyes again, his head throbbing and before he knew it there was a hand on his face, stroking gently, and he was peeling open gluey eyes to look up at Rabastan, who was sat on the bed beside him. Harry moaned unhappily at being woken up, but he rolled until his body was in Rabastan’s lap, wanting to be closer to him.

 

“Is the Healer here?” Harry asked sleepily.

 

“He’s been and gone.” Rabastan told him with a smile. “You were fast asleep and there was no waking you. You were given a Pepper-Up potion, but other than that, you’re going to be just fine.”

 

Harry nodded and he yawned, shifting more to wrap his arms around Rabastan’s waist.

 

“You must never scare me like this again.” Rabastan told him sternly. “How could you just wander off to who knows where with Dumbledore, Harry? Him, of all people!”

 

Harry hummed sleepily. “It was important.”

 

“So you said last night, but you have refused to elaborate. What was so important that you had to risk yourself in such a way? That you had to leave the school so late at night and put yourself in danger?”

 

“You wouldn’t like it.” Harry said simply, twisting onto his back so that he could look up into Rabastan’s face, so that he could see those beautiful dark blue eyes.

 

“I already don’t like this, not one bit.” Rabastan said. “I don’t like you being alone with that man.”

 

“Unfortunately its necessary, Rabastan. I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise. Don’t you remember the struggle Father had to get me to go to those ‘meetings’ in the first place? I never wanted to go to them in the first place, but Father made me, and then things came to light during them and I realised I’d have to play a very intricate, dangerous game. Last night was the penultimate moment in that game. I had to go…if I hadn’t then Dumbledore would have known that my loyalties have truly switched to the other side and my life would have been in even more danger, can’t you understand that?”

 

Rabastan sighed then. “I understand.” He said. “I’m sorry for nagging, I just…I was scared when we couldn’t find you, when we didn’t know where you were or what was happening to you. For all I knew, you could have been dying at that very moment, and I couldn’t have done anything about it. I wish you would have at least told me that you were going out last night, then it wouldn’t have been such a panic.”

 

Harry reached up one hand and he cupped Rabastan’s face with it.

 

“I love you.” He said clearly and firmly. “I would never want to worry you, but sometimes things are beyond our control and we have to follow them through. I didn’t know I was going out last night, that’s why the letter to Draco was basic and hastily written, I only had a few moments to collect the things I needed to take with me and to write that letter and then I was gone. I barely had ten minutes warning myself, but when you and Rodolphus get better, you’re going to start going on ‘missions’ again, aren’t you?” He asked, then he carried on just as Rabastan opened his mouth, maybe to simply agree, maybe to argue his reasons for going on the missions, but Harry never gave him the chance to say anything because he already knew that Rabastan would not ever go against orders from his Lord. “And don’t you think I’ll be sat at home, worried out of my mind about where you are and what you’re doing and if you’re hurt or not while I can’t do anything about it? There’s nothing we can do about it, Rabastan. What will happen is going to happen, and I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have to do what we need to do in order to survive. In order to keep ourselves together, as a family, because I love you and I will not lose you or let you go.”

 

Rabastan blew out a breath and he nodded unhappily. He felt the same way. He wanted to argue with Harry, wrap him up and keep him safe, point out that he was only sixteen, but he couldn’t, because Harry was right. He couldn’t treat the man who would become his husband as lesser than himself, they were to be equals, which meant they both shared the same privileges and the same level of respect from the other, regardless of the age difference. He couldn’t go out on dangerous missions and then demand that Harry couldn’t do the same. Harry was not a child, despite his young years, and thanks to the Muggle beasts who had ruined his childhood, Harry had never really been a child in the first place, so he had absolutely no right to try and force Harry into a box to keep him safe when Harry had never been used to such treatment. He had to swallow down the fear and remind himself that it would be the same fear Harry would swallow when he went out on his own missions.

He’d never really had anyone to care for him in such a way. Rodolphus did, of course, but he would be right there beside him. They would usually be on the same mission, supporting and helping one another, able to keep an eye on one another, it wasn’t the same as sitting at home, wondering what was happening or if anyone had been hurt. This level of concern for his wellbeing was completely new and as he looked down into those emerald green eyes, he knew that he would never be able to stand seeing them filled with tears, fear or pain.

 

“You’re staying home now.” Rabastan told him. “For the summer. The others will be on the train tomorrow, so your Father didn’t see the point in sending you back just to come home again tomorrow. Not in your condition.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding. “I want to go back and get the things I want to bring home, but it shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

 

Rabastan nodded. “I would offer to go with you, but I can’t. Instead I will be waiting here when you get back.”

 

Harry smiled and he sat up then, his back to his Fiancé’s chest, pushing his bum back into Rabastan’s lap, and tipping his head back to kiss him.

 

“Thank you for understanding.” Harry said. “Now, am I allowed to get up or not?” He teased.

 

“The Healer said that you’d be fine with a Pepper-Up, so I believe that to mean that you’re fine to get up.”

 

Harry smiled. “I’ll floo to Hogwarts and pick up my stuff now, so I can just relax for the rest of the summer without having to worry about anything.”

 

Rabastan nodded. “Don’t let anyone tell you that you have to stay there, your Father has already contacted the school and he’s told them that you’re staying home.”

 

Harry nodded and he stood up and stretched.

 

“I’m glad to be home early with you. I wanted to come home after the exams, but Dumbledore said I had to stay there, I know now that it was because of last night.” Harry sighed. “His little test.” He added with a sneer.

 

Rabastan reached out to him and pulled him back over to himself and kissed him gently.

 

“Don’t fret over it, Harry. You passed the test, yes?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“And he now thinks that you’re truly loyal?”

 

“Not just yet. I need to return something to him first. Our reason for the test.” Harry sighed.

 

Harry picked up his cloak, snatched the locket from under it and dangled the locket out facing Rabastan.

 

“An old Black family locket?” Rabastan frowned.

 

Harry cocked his head. “It belongs to the Black family?”

 

“Yes, every family gives their children something to keep protective charms over them, and it is usually an emergency portkey too, like the pendant that you and Draco have. The Black family used lockets, like that one. I remember your godfather, and his younger brother Regulus, wearing one each that look like the one you’re holding. You can tell it belongs to the Black family because of this.” He said pointing to the odd markings around the edge. “Of course Sirius stopped wearing his when he was about thirteen or fourteen.”

 

Harry could have snogged his Fiancé.

 

“Did Regulus have a middle name?” Harry asked.

 

Rabastan frowned at him. “Yes. It was Arcturus.”

 

“So, he was Regulus Arcturus Black?” Harry asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Poor bastard.”

 

Rabastan rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

 

“Maybe Dumbledore just wanted me to hand over a Black relic to him. Who knows? Either way, to pass his little test I have to hand this piece of rubbish back to him and then he’ll think me truly loyal. I can fool the old man properly. I grabbed it because he was weak and dying and he’ll want it.” Harry sighed as if hard done by. “I’ll be back in an hour, love.”

 

“I’ll have some tea and a light meal waiting for you. You’ve been asleep all morning, you need to eat.”

 

“Ah, it’s the calcium potion today, at lunch time.” Harry nodded his understanding. “Okay. I won’t be long.”

 

Harry took the locket with him into the bathroom and he closed the door to give himself a moment. He jumped and danced around a little in silent joy. Rabastan had unwittingly given him the clue to the Horcrux. Regulus Black had been a Death Eater, he’d known that from Sirius, but no one had known that he’d turned sides before his death. Regulus had somehow known about Voldemort’s Horcruxes, but more than that, he had found the hiding place of one, perhaps even more than one, and he’d taken Slytherin’s locket and replaced it with his childhood Black locket.

Harry washed quickly, then he opened the locket, took out Regulus’ note and he used a pair of hair scissors to carefully cut off the R. A. B. on the bottom of it. He set fire to it with his wand and he grinned. He would find the Horcrux after all, or at least find out if Regulus had destroyed it.

He dressed quickly, tucked the locket into his robe pocket and he left his bedroom to floo over to Hogwarts. He wanted to pack up his stuff and bring it back, then he’d need to find a moment to call Kreacher to him. If anyone would know old Black family secrets, it would be Kreacher.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Dumbledore was sat up in his bed when Harry went to see him, climbing the stairs in the Headmaster’s office to the private rooms above, in his pyjamas but he was awake and upright at least.

 

“Ah, Harry. Are you feeling alright?”

 

Harry frowned. “Not really. Father wants me to stay home, I only have an hour to pack my stuff to take back with me.”

 

“I had heard, yes.” The old man said wearily.

 

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked.

 

“Much better now that Severus has seen to me.” Dumbledore said quietly. “Did you pick up the Horcrux, Harry?”

 

“It’s not even a Horcrux.” Harry said, making it a point to look upset. “We went through all of that for nothing!”

 

“Are you sure, Harry?” Dumbledore demanded, sitting forward and looking at him with those piercing blue eyes.

 

Harry took the locket out of his pocket and handed it over. “Someone got there before us and left this in its place. They said they were going to try and destroy it, that they were going to destroy him. We have no way of knowing who it was, or how many Horcruxes they found or if they’ve even stopped. I got the diary, you took out the ring, we know the snake is always with Voldemort, but how many Horcruxes has this person taken out? Did they even find a way to destroy the locket? Or have they just hidden it somewhere else where we’ll never find it?”

 

He made a show of looking frustrated and angry as Dumbledore opened the locket with fumbling hands and read the age crinkled note inside it. He looked more ill, weaker and older now, than he had last night while Harry was dragging him from the cave.

 

“It was not for nothing, Harry.” He said calmly, though how he could be calm after hearing this terrible news, Harry had no clue. “We know now that somewhere, we have an ally.”

 

“Yeah, but who?!” Harry scowled. “How do we even find them, we can’t exactly advertise for people destroying Voldemort’s Horcruxes, can we? And are they really helping us, I mean, how are we ever going to destroy that monster with someone else interfering and moving the Horcruxes about? We don’t even know if this person managed to find a way to destroy the Horcrux that they stole! They’re just making everything more difficult for us!”

 

“Calm yourself, Harry. You are not well.” Dumbledore said and Harry breathed out and his shoulders slumped.

 

“I just…I’d hoped that we’d come one step closer to killing him last night. I woke up this morning to find that the locket was a fake and we have no Horcrux. It’s a massive let down.”

 

“I understand.” Dumbledore said calmly. “But we must not lose heart.”

 

“I can’t help it. We were facing a mountain before this…before we found out that someone has been moving the Horcruxes and leaving behind fakes.”

 

“We do not know how many they have managed to find, it could just be this one.”

 

“Or it could be all of the remaining ones.” Harry said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Why did he have to go and do this? Why did he have to make _seven_ Horcruxes?”

 

“Because above all else, he fears death, Harry. He fails to grasp that there are worse things than death, and he has tried to make himself immortal.”

 

“I suppose that nothing worth doing is ever easy.” Harry conceded. “Anyway, I’m glad that you’re alright. I wasn’t sure either of us were going to survive last night.”

 

“You are bruised.”

 

Harry looked at his arm and scowled at the black bruise there. “One of the inferi grabbed me and was trying to drag me into the lake. I’ve got a bruise on my ankle too. I thankfully remembered that they were afraid of fire soon after.”

 

“Yes, very good.”

 

Harry nodded. “I hope you get well soon.” He lied as convincingly as he could.

 

“Me too, Harry, me too. One more thing before you go. Might I have your memory of last night, so that I might review what happened? I was, I think you’ll agree, more than a little distracted.”

 

Harry nodded. “Of course. You’ll have to tell me what to do though, I’ve never done it before.”

 

“Just think very hard about what happened last night, and I will do the rest.”

 

Harry rather thought that Dumbledore just wanted to make sure that Harry hadn’t switched out the lockets himself, but he hadn’t. The memory would clearly show the wrong locket in the basin in the cave from an outsider’s perspective. Harry had been too panicked, too busy to look at what he’d grabbed, he’d only seen a locket and he’d just assumed that it was the Horcrux, that it was Slytherin’s locket, but Dumbledore would be able to see it clearly when he went back to review the memory. He’d be able to see that it was the wrong one immediately…and it would match the locket that Harry had just given him perfectly, as it was the same locket that Harry had picked up.

A wand tip touched his temple and Harry had to fight not to leap away from it. He watched as a silvery strand came from his head and was dropped into a crystal vial that Dumbledore had conjured.

 

“Thank you for this, Harry.”

 

Harry nodded. “Despite all that happened last night, if you do find another Horcrux, please let me know so I can come along again. I need to destroy that monster and if this is the only way, then despite how impossible it seems, I want to help.”

 

“Of course, my boy.”

 

Harry nodded and he turned and left the Headmaster’s office without saying anything else. He went straight to his private rooms and it was as he was in complete privacy, with the door firmly closed, that he laughed. He laughed loudly and unrestrainedly for some minutes before he could calm himself back down. He loved it when one of his little plans came together so very well and went off without a hitch.

A simple summoning charm had everything packed into his trunk. Then he got to the reason that he had wanted some privacy here. Kreacher.

 

“Kreacher!” He called out.

 

“Master calls for poor old Kreacher?” The house elf warbled, appearing immediately after he’d been called.

 

“Yes. It has recently come to my attention that Regulus Black, your old Master, might have been in possession of a locket that he was trying to destroy. Do you know where it is?”

 

“Master will try to destroy it for Master Regulus?”

 

“I want to get rid of it.” Harry said truthfully, sort of…he was going to give it back to Voldemort as a bargaining chip, not destroy it, but some misleading information would help him here.

 

Kreacher burst into tears. “Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy it, but Kreacher could not. Kreacher tried everything, even biting it, and I could not fulfil Master’s wish.”

 

“It’s okay, Kreacher. I’m sure that Regulus would have understood. It’s no ordinary locket, and it is very hard to destroy because of what it is, because of the magic around it. Can you get it for me? So that I can get rid of it?”

 

Kreacher threw his arms around Harry’s knees and cried into him. “Yes. Yes, Master. Kreacher kept it safe, with his other treasures, even when Mundungus Fletcher tried to steal it, Kreacher kept that safe…he took everything else, Miss Bella and Miss Cissy’s pictures, my mistress’s gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, but Kreacher would not let him take Master Regulus’ locket. Kreacher bit him when he tried.”

 

“Tell me what happened to Master Regulus, Kreacher.” Harry said, sitting down and watching the elf closely.

 

The elf took a deep breath and began telling him how Voldemort had needed to test the defences on the cave, how he had chosen a house elf and Harry was almost sick as he realised immediately where the story was going.

 

“So Master Regulus came to Kreacher, and asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, and…and Kreacher had to obey.”

 

Harry could almost picture it, almost exactly how it had played out with him and Dumbledore, how Voldemort underestimated underaged wizards, and magical creatures too, allowing them to slip through his defences via a loop hole.

 

“Master Regulus drank the potion, he gave Kreacher his old locket and told Kreacher to switch them. He ordered Kreacher to leave without him.” He sobbed. “He drank…he drank all the potion…and Kreacher swapped the lockets…and…and he watched as Master Regulus was dragged beneath the water…”

 

Harry couldn’t stand it and he went to his knees and he hugged the elderly elf.

 

“It’s okay, Kreacher. You followed his orders as well as you could. He would not blame you. Hand the locket to me now, so I can get rid of it and take it from your mind.”

 

Kreacher nodded and he vanished. It took him a moment before he was back, the thick, heavy gold locket in hand with its large ‘S’ done in emeralds on the front.

 

“Thank you, Kreacher. Put this from your mind now, and tell no one that you had it, and no one that you gave it to me, okay?”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

Harry went to the mantelpiece and he picked up an old Black ring that he hated, because it was thick, heavy and gaudy. It had been in the Black family for generations. It was at least two hundred years old and to his understanding, it had once belonged to Phineas Nigellus Black, who had gotten it from an old undocumented, unnamed Uncle when he had become Headmaster of Hogwarts.

 

“I want you to have this, Kreacher. It’s an ancient Black family heirloom, it is hundreds of years old, and I consider you a part of the Black family, so this is yours now.” He said, handing the stunned elf the ring.

 

Harry conjured a small length of black string, he slipped it through the ring in Kreacher’s shaking hands and then he tied it around Kreacher’s neck, like a necklace. He didn’t tie it too tightly and he left it to dangle down Kreacher’s chest, where the elf touched and played with it.

 

“Thank you, Master.”

 

“Think nothing of it, Kreacher. Go back to what you were doing now. I’ll be fine. I’m going to be at Malfoy manor now, for the summer, so if you need me, I’ll be there.”

 

Kreacher nodded, his blue eyes filled with tears and he left with a small pop. Harry, jubilant now with his achievement, placed the locket into his trunk, wrapping it in a pair of socks at the bottom.

He charmed the trunk weightless and he lifted the handle and he walked out of Hogwarts, exuberant and now much happier than he’d been before. He had the sword of Gryffindor and now he had Slytherin’s locket. He would ask for a face to face meeting with Voldemort and he would force the man, if he could even still be called that, to agree to his terms in return for his own Horcrux, and for the sword of Gryffindor, and the information on the Horcruxes and the two that were already destroyed.

Feeling much more accomplished, Harry went to the fireplace in McGonagall’s office, as it was closer, and he flooed back to Malfoy manor.

Rabastan was waiting for him and Harry dropped his trunk handle and threw his arms around his Fiancé instead. Harry kissed him and he sighed happily.

 

“Is everything alright?” Rabastan asked him.

 

Harry nodded. “Yes, perfectly fine. Unfortunately Dumbledore survived last night. With how he looked I was hoping that he would…ah, but it doesn’t matter. Can’t have everything in life, I suppose.”

 

Rabastan chuckled. “Come on, I’ve had lunch laid out. No doubts Dolphus is already eating.”

 

“He never was one for manners.” Harry sniggered.

 

“No, but you’d think he’d at least wait for us.”

 

Harry laughed. “I’d be very surprised if he had.”

 

They made it to the dining room, and sure enough Rodolphus was already there and already eating.

 

“There you are. How do you feel today?”

 

“Tired and achy, I’m covered in bruises too. But I’m okay, thank you.” Harry said as he allowed Rabastan to help him to sit and then he tucked into the grilled chicken breast and fresh vegetables. He particularly liked the roasted butternut squash. He’d never tried it before and he’d found that he really liked it.

 

Once he’d finished eating, he knocked back the calcium potion and grimaced, but Rabastan was ready with a cup of tea and Harry smiled at him in thanks as he gulped it down to get rid of the taste of the vile potion.

His healthy lunch eaten, he could now nibble on some treats and he happily ate several biscuits with more tea.

 

“Basti told me why you did such foolish, dangerous things last night.” Rodolphus piped up.

 

“I expected him to.” Harry replied evenly. “I did as I had to. It wasn’t my choice to make it seem like I was still Dumbledore’s man, it was my Father’s. I will not be blamed for doing what I did when I never wanted to do it in the first place.”

 

Rodolphus nodded. “Does he suspect you?”

 

“No. Then he only thinks I’m in league with the Malfoys. Not the Lestranges. He’d likely lose his mind if he knew I was even speaking to the both of you, or your grandfather outside of Wizengamot meetings for that matter.” Harry pointed out.

 

“Wait until he finds out you’re going to be married to Rabastan.” Rodolphus laughed.

 

Harry snorted. “That really would finish him off, though I hope he’s long dead before it comes out. It’s already going to fuel the rumours that I’m being drugged with potions or put under the Imperius curse without him still around to fan the flames.”

 

“What are your plans for the summer?”

 

“I don’t have any. I wasn’t given any summer work to do, because I’m so sick that the Professors think I just need to recover all summer and I’m not doing anything…except going to the Ministry party in August. That’s going to be torturous.”

 

“You’ll do just fine.” Rabastan told him. “It’ll be just as stuffy and boring as the Wizengamot party you went to in April, but remember it’s all about planting seeds for your proposals.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding. “It’s the only point to going. I’m going to test the waters more, see what I need to work on, what I need to stress, and then I’ll have a much better idea of how things might go. It’s not just the Wizengamot I need on my side, though they are the most important as they are the ones who are going to vote it through or not, but I need the Ministry on side too. This law making business is very painstaking.”

 

“Of course.” Rabastan agreed.

 

“How are your family portfolios?” Rodolphus asked with a shit eating grin. Rabastan glared at his older brother for bringing it up.

 

Harry groaned theatrically. “Do not even get me started on those damn things. I think I might just throw them out of a window and forget where they are. Those damn portfolios are continuously updating, I just…I wish I’d left them in the damn vaults! I mean it, they’re a pain in the arse.”

 

“Language, Harry.” Lucius told him, entering the room.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course you come home just as the first curse word I use leaves my mouth.” He complained.

 

“All the more reason for you to not use such base, vulgar language.”

 

“I like base, vulgar language.” Harry insisted. “It makes me happy.”

 

Rabastan chuckled and Lucius snorted. “Of course it does.” The elder man said disdainfully.

 

“It’s because you’re a base, vulgar little boy.” Rodolphus pointed out.

 

“And don’t you ever forget it.” Harry grinned.

 

“I was trying to insult you.” Rodolphus told him.

 

“Really? Wow, you really need to try harder.” Harry laughed. “I get worse than that from the newspapers, especially after the sentencing of Mister Jute.”

 

Rodolphus smirked and rolled his eyes, while Rabastan chuckled and threw his arm around Harry’s shoulders, resting his arm on the back of Harry’s chair.

 

“Did you see Dumbledore at all while getting your trunk? Which I will add has been left right in front of the fireplace and almost caused me to break my neck when I came home.” Lucius said, raising a platinum eyebrow.

 

Harry closed his eyes and grimaced. “Sorry.” He said sincerely. “I will move it now.” He added, standing.

 

“I have already done so.” Lucius replied, waving a hand for him to sit back down. “Now, did you see Dumbledore or not?”

 

“Yes, when I first arrived at the school. He is regretfully still alive.”

 

Rodolphus snorted into his cup of tea and almost choked on it with his amusement.

 

“See?!” Harry teased, pointing to him. “That’s what you get for trying to insult me. You almost choke. Anyway, he was in bed, but he was awake and sat up, we spoke a bit, then I went to my rooms, packed up and left.”

 

“Did you affirm your supposed loyalty?”

 

Harry scoffed. “Yes. Bloody idiot that he is. But, I suppose it works in my favour, for now. Or rather it keeps me safer and stops me from being in danger, on that front at least.”

 

“You would be safer if you stopped stealing swords.” Lucius told him.

 

“Hey! No speaking of that.” Harry teased. “I don’t want word getting to anyone that I have it, especially not those goblins! I’m going to make out I found it on accident and then pretend to give it back to them while subtly worming something in return.”

 

“Do you even know what you want from them?” Rodolphus asked him.

 

“Nope, which is why I don’t want anyone chatting about it. I need to make out that I’ve taken it to them immediately, not waited several months to figure out what I want from them in return first.”

 

“Very well.” Lucius nodded. “Just…be careful, Harry.”

 

He nodded happily. “I will be.”

 

Harry went back to his tea, and he sunk into his thoughts for a moment. He needed to tread carefully around Voldemort, he would be in much more danger, but worse than that, he would be putting his family in danger too, something that made him feel physically sick, and very scared too, but this was something he had to do. Thankfully he didn’t just have the sword anymore, he had an actual Horcrux, and he made a mental note to reward Kreacher some more for giving it to him, because the chances that he’d even had it, that he had fought to keep that one treasure from Mundungus, who he was going to have to prosecute now that it had come to light that he had stolen Harry’s possessions, was a sheer stroke of good fortune. He’d do that a little later, when he didn’t have so much on his mind, when he wasn’t so happy and excited over getting the real Horcrux for himself.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

A few days later and Harry was perfectly fine and well, he had had a few nightmares, and he’d found out that his parents had set Pimsey to watching him through the night. With every nightmare they came to soothe him and calm him and let him slip back to sleep, sometimes with a bit of dreamless sleep potion, sometimes not. Once it was Rabastan who came to soothe him and Harry begged him to stay, and his Fiancé had, sleeping next to him in the bed, the duvet separating their bodies so that they didn’t get into too much trouble come the morning when they were found sleeping in the same bed together, but Harry had slept peacefully, cuddled up tight by Rabastan, despite the duvet separating them.

Draco had come home last night and Harry had spent three hours with him in his own sitting room, catching him up on what had happened, and why he had suddenly come home two days early without any word or warning.

Draco was furious on his behalf at what he’d been put through by Dumbledore, and some rather creative names and curse words were used to describe their Headmaster afterwards. Harry also told him about the little ‘test’ that Dumbledore had put him through, about Rabastan recognising the old Black family heirloom that he was expected to hand over.

 

“You still handed it over knowing that it was an heirloom of your family?” Draco had asked.

 

“I had no choice.” Harry had sighed. “I had to hand it over, even knowing what it was. It was the locket that was the test, not the ocean, not the inferi, it was the Black locket more than any of that, or rather it was handing it over that was the test. That’s why he let me pick it up, I’m sure, just to see if I’d even give it back. I did, so now I’ve passed his stupid test and all is well.”

 

Draco had sighed himself and shaken his head. “All this creeping about and pretending that you’re on his side when you’re not. I couldn’t do it.”

 

“Thankfully no one is asking you to do anything of the sort.” Harry teased his brother then, and their serious conversation devolved more into playful banter and a catch-up on what Draco had done with his last few days at Hogwarts. Blaise had moaned and complained all through the train journey that he hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye to him, apparently. 

 

It was now the following morning and Harry had been up early, had eaten his breakfast and he was struggling through the family portfolios when Rabastan found him.

 

“There you are, I was worried.” Rabastan told him.

 

Harry looked up, startled, then he smiled. “Why? I’m completely fine. I was actually able to sleep last night without those terrible night sweats. I didn’t have any nightmares either, not that I remember.”

 

“That’s wonderful news.” Rabastan said, sitting beside him, then looking like he regretted it when he realised what Harry was actually doing.

 

“You don’t need to look so frightened. I’m almost done.” Harry insisted with a cheeky smile. “I’m just checking share prices. Though…what do you think of this? It keeps dipping suddenly, recovering and raising a little, then dipping again. I don’t really know what’s happening.”

 

Rabastan shifted closer and he looked at the page that Harry had pointed out with his wand, which was detailing the share prices of this particular enterprise and he frowned as Harry moved his wand slowly across the page, taking the shares back hour by hour and he noticed the unexplained dipping and the almost immediate raising right before the market closed for the night. No one would ever notice it with it being so late in the night, only Harry _had_ noticed, and it was very strange, unexplainable behaviour.

 

“I don’t understand that either. It dips suddenly and steeply, but it always raises higher than it fell, it’s unexplainable. I would query the goblins, something about that isn’t right.”

 

Harry indicated the letter he was writing. “I already am, I just wanted to be sure that this wasn’t normal. I mean, I’ve never seen it before with any of the other companies I have shares with, but I’ve only being sorting these portfolios for a little under a year, not all that long really, but truly it looks like someone is messing with the share prices, buying them in the controlled dips, when the share price is all but worthless, and then selling them when it soars for a massive profit. In which case it needs to be sorted quickly if someone is abusing their position.”

 

“Absolutely. The portfolio will only show a few days’ worth of information, not a lot of Lords take the time to check through every inch of their portfolios every day like you, so the dips and rises will go unnoticed, but the goblins will be able to look back much further and they’ll see what you have.”

 

Harry nodded and he finished off his letter with a glob of dark red wax and he picked up his specially made seal stamp from the wooden case beside him and he smiled slightly as he pushed it into the wax. He still enjoyed playing with his official stamp.

 

“I’ll send this off immediately. I’m not happy with the dips and rises…if it is somehow legitimate, I still want to sell all the shares I have immediately, on the next rise, of course.”

 

Rabastan nodded at that idea. “I think that would be very wise. You wouldn’t want to find that this is some cover-up for a business going under, where the bosses are buying shares in bulk to try and raise the price until they inevitably go bust.”

 

“Absolutely not, and to be caught up in such a scandal when it does come out would be highly embarrassing for me and my reputation would take a blow, I can’t allow that to happen just now, while I’m still trying to build myself up. Let me sort this a moment. I’ll be right back.” Harry promised, giving Rabastan a quick kiss and going to find Hedwig, so that he could send the letter straight to the goblins. He wanted their opinion on this instance as quickly as possible.

 

He went back to the drawing room, where he had set up with his portfolios, and he went to pack everything up and collect Rabastan for breakfast.

 

“All done.” Harry said happily.

 

He was even happier to see that Rabastan had packed his stuff up for him while he’d been sending his letter.

 

“I hope you don’t mind me touching this, I probably should have asked first.” Rabastan said worriedly.

 

Harry just laughed. “Rabastan, you are to be my husband, the Father of our children, of course I don’t bloody mind you touching any of it. Please, feel free to open them up and check them over whenever you want.” He sniggered.

 

Rabastan smiled and he pulled Harry into a kiss. As he all but fell against his Fiancé, Harry was shocked and pleased to feel muscle beneath his hands. Actual muscle, not bone, not the semi-state of bony, fleshlessness he’d had recently, but there was muscle there, actual solid muscle. Harry wanted to cry in joy, but he calmed himself and he didn’t draw attention to it, but this was yet more tangible proof that Rabastan’s regime was working, that he was getting better and healthier all the time. 

 

“Come on, I’m hungry.” Harry said with a grin.

 

“Are you feeling alright?” Rabastan asked, wondering just why Harry seemed so energetic today.

 

“Of course. I never had to take that nutrient potion last night. So I slept well and I’m actually hungry this morning. I want something to eat, so come on. It won’t last, I have to take that potion tonight, so tomorrow I’ll be all miserable again.”

 

Rabastan smiled at him and took his hand, enclosing it in his own and it felt amazing to be able to do this now, knowing that there was no chance that he would crush that tiny hand placed trustingly in his own. He would never cause any purposeful harm to Harry, nor allow any harm to come to him, and now that he was better, he was in more control of monitoring the harm that he caused to Harry via the spasms and such that he had. He hadn’t had a body lock up or any spasms in the last several weeks actually, now that he thought of it. He frowned as he tried to remember the last time he’d had done anything of that sort…it had definitely been longer than a month. When had the last time been? He couldn’t remember it clearly, but it was almost two months ago since his last incident. He smiled to himself and looked down at the tiny Harry walking beside him. He loved the boy so much, for everything that Harry had selflessly done for him…and for treating him and loving him like a person, and not seeing the crippled mess that Azkaban had rendered him.

Harry had always seen him, the person underneath the shell, the person he had the potential to be, and that was why Rabastan would always love him, and why he did not need any orders from anyone, not even his Lord, to carry on loving Harry and to keep him close. He did so because he wanted to do so, because he wanted to be close to Harry, to hold him and love him. He wanted to marry him and he wanted children with him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Harry, loving him and looking after him and their children. It was all he wanted, and all because Harry had seen past the dribbling, crippled husk he’d been when they’d first met, because Harry had wanted to help him, had wanted to get him back to full health and fitness, because Harry was willing to see their betrothal through to engagement and marriage despite everything, instead of giving up on him or even refusing him outright and finding someone else.

 

“You’re very deep in thought.” Harry’s soft, clear voice cut through his thoughts and Rabastan looked back down to the boy at his side. Those bright emerald eyes were smiling up at him and Rabastan automatically smiled back.

 

“I’m just thinking on how lucky I am to have you.”

 

Harry scoffed automatically, because he truly did not understand his own appeal, his own self-worth, and Rabastan hated that, but he would continue do all he could to show it and say it, to prove to Harry that he was utterly perfect in every way in his opinion. Despite some very strange ideals and viewpoints on certain issues, such as his treatment of house-elves, and on the Dementors too. Rabastan shivered uncontrollably as he thought of them, and he pushed those memories away. He would not ruin a good morning by thinking of his time in Azkaban. He was never going to go back, he would kill himself first, so there was no need to think on such things.

 

“Good morning, Harry. Rabastan.” Lucius greeted them. “Up a little early this morning?” He asked.

 

“I’ve been up for hours, Father.” Harry said. “I’ve been sorting out the family portfolios now that I have some more time and something caught my eye. There is a particular company that I have shares in which is showing… _questionable_ behaviour.” Harry sighed. “I wanted to see what was going on, so I watched it for two hours. It dips very sharply, stays low for only a few minutes, then it rises steeply again and it’s like the dip never even happened. I went back to the information from last night, and it did exactly the same, right before the market closed, when people were less likely to notice it. I thought that perhaps someone is tweaking the shares, lowering the price and then buying bulk shares while they’re worthless and then selling them when they rise for a substantial profit. Rabastan also pointed out that the company could be going under and the bosses are trying to hide it by buying bulk shares themselves to mask the problem. Either way, I have written to the goblins and either I will be a whistle blower on whatever operation is going on, or I’m going to pull out and sell all of my shares with this company during the next sharp rise in price.”

 

“Well, this is certainly a heavy topic for breakfast.” Lucius said. “But I am proud of you for taking such a serious interest in your family portfolios, and for noticing this abnormality. It is most definitely nothing good and I would pull your shares immediately, as soon as you could.”

 

“But if it’s only someone selfishly skewing with the price to profit themselves…”

 

“It won’t matter.” Xerxes interrupted. “The moment that article appears in the papers, that company will be ruined and the shares will be worthless anyway. Get whatever shares you have with them out now, while you can. If you wish you can always reinvest at a later date, after the article has lost its urgency and the company has recovered somewhat.”

 

Harry huffed. “It seems like I’m going to have a trip to Gringotts today then. I’ll pull my shares before Hedwig reaches them and blows the whistle. That way, I make a profit for myself and I’m safe from whatever backlash there will be from this.”

 

“I am in work today.” Lucius frowned.

 

Harry’s face crumpled in thought. “I should be alright on my own. No one would expect me to go to Diagon Alley just days after Hogwarts lets out and no one would dare approach me, just let them even try.” He said fiercely.

 

“I don’t like you going unescorted.” Lucius insisted. “You haven’t been well.”

 

Harry looked up at his Father. “Let me do this on my own. It’s important for my character building to hold such meetings without anyone holding my hand.”

 

Lucius sighed, but he nodded once. “Alright, Harry. Just be careful. You are still an underaged member of my house. I should not even be considering allowing you out without an escort, I wouldn’t allow Draco out alone either, and it is only because you are the Lord of two houses that I am allowing it now, no other reason. You take exceedingly good care with yourself, do you hear me?”

 

“Yes, Father.” Harry said.

 

“Please do be careful.” Rabastan said, not very happy with the decision that had been made. “I would go with you if I could.”

 

“I know you would. I would have you beside me in all things too, but at the moment…it’s just not the right time.”

 

“Soon enough.” Rodolphus said from across the table. “Things are progressing quickly now. We are almost ready.”

 

“Rodolphus, not here.” Xerxes snapped at his older grandson, looking pointedly to Harry.

 

Harry snorted. “Do you truly think so little of me that you honestly thought I wouldn’t notice what’s going on right under my very nose? I know what’s going on, I know what’s happening and what will happen.”

 

“And what do you think of it?” Rodolphus asked him.

 

Harry stared straight into those dark brown eyes. “I just want to be able to walk down the street with my Fiancé without fear of being attacked or being persecuted.” He said, moving his hand to lay it on Rabastan’s, squeezing it. “I want a life with him, a family, and I want it publically. There’s only one way that can happen and despite what anyone thinks, I love Rabastan more than I care about whatever else happens. I have my limits, as do we all, but I would take that out on whoever committed such a thing, not on Rabastan.”

 

“Such as what?” Rodolphus asked.

 

“Hurting children.” Harry said immediately. “Or innocent bystanders, people who can’t defend themselves. Things like that. I won’t lose myself just because I’ve fallen in love with Rabastan and there is no way in hell any of my children will be joining you or your activities. Not ever.” Harry said.

 

“If they choose…”

 

“They’ll do it over my dead fucking body!” Harry snapped loudly at Rodolphus. “It’s not happening, end of discussion.”

 

“Watch your language, Harry. You’re lucky that your Mother isn’t here.” Lucius told him. Harry rather thought he was just changing the subject quickly with whatever topic was convenient. Such as his bad language.

 

Harry nodded and he started eating his breakfast. He ignored everyone else, or rather their last conversation, and instead he prepared what he was going to say to the goblins when he reached the bank, practising some conversations with Rabastan and planning out different answers to different lines of questioning. He’d have to wear formal robes for the occasion and he’d have to look good. He’d have a shower now after breakfast, he’d very reluctantly enlist Draco’s help to get ready, and then he’d make his way to the bank. He wanted to sort this little…situation, quickly, before it escalated and truly, Xerxes was right, whatever way this played out, it was not going to end well for him or for the shares he held in this company if he did nothing. He wanted his investment pulled out, his shares cashed at a profit, before everything went tits up and he was linked to this coming disaster.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X   

 

It took an hour and a half before Draco declared him presentable enough to go to an important bank meeting and Harry was frustrated and exhausted before he even set off because of it.

He was wearing a nice black robe that was tailor cut to his body. It was one of the ones he used to go to Wizengamot meetings, which Draco insisted was just as important as this meeting with the bank.

Rabastan had given him a nice pair of silver cufflinks, just a little extra, he’d insisted as he’d fixed the cufflinks to his shirt for him, looking down at him proudly, and a little lustfully.

Harry smiled to remember that, as he walked through the doors to Gringotts and then made his way directly to the head goblin. He knew from Lucius that most people wouldn’t approach him, as he was not the right goblin to see if you just wanted to merely make a withdrawal from your vault, you had to want something important from Gringotts if you actually dared approach the head goblin.

Harry stood and he waited patiently, ignoring all the hisses and little whispers flaring up behind his back as people recognised him, and then he went and approached the head goblin too, and people actually craned their necks to see what he was doing.

 

“How may we help you today, Lord Potter-Black?” The head goblin asked him, having finished writing in the large book in front of him.

 

“I wish to discuss a particular investment that was made in the past. It is in regards to selling the shares in said company and severing all ties to it.” Harry said brusquely.

 

“Of course.” The head goblin said amicably. “Ironjaw will see you through to an office where you will be met by a goblin capable of handling such a situation.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry said easily, inclining his head a little and then following Ironjaw, who had come trotting from the back wall as soon as his name was called.

 

He soon found himself in a nice little office, not unlike the one he’d been in when he’d come to inquire about his Lordships in the first place, and he rehearsed what he was going to say. He kept his knees together and his hands in his lap, forcing himself to sit straight backed and not to fidget. He was willing to prove himself ready for this level of independence, he would not act like a child and come across as impatient or bored. He had called this meeting after all, he was here on his own terms.

A goblin entered not too much time later and Harry greeted it politely as it took a seat behind the desk.  

 

“I understand that you wish to sell some shares today, Lord Potter-Black.” The goblin, introduced as Narglock, said straight down to business. That was why Harry liked the goblins, they never beat around the bush and you could always rely on them to be blunt and right to the point. He liked that.

 

“That’s correct, the particular company in question was one invested in by my grandfather, I on the other hand wish to pull out.” He said as he handed over a piece of parchment with the all the company details upon it. He’d meticulously written it out after breakfast that morning, Lucius over his shoulder just to be sure that he did everything correctly and had all the information that was needed, in his very best handwriting.

 

The goblin looked over everything and then a small flare of magic later and another piece of parchment came to the goblin’s hands.

 

“The share price for this company is currently at one hundred and seven Galleons, five Sickles and twelve Knuts a share.” The goblin told him. “Is this an acceptable selling price for you, Lord Potter-Black?”

 

“It is, yes.” Harry replied, knowing from his observations that the share price would be levelling out today, before it would start dipping again over the next week before it would dive sharply in several days, but if the past information he had was an indicator, then it would be at its highest today, just after the steep nose dive late last night, right before the market closed.

 

“You own six thousand, five hundred and forty-eight shares. Do you have the corresponding certificates?”

 

Harry opened the folder in his lap and he handed over the elaborately embossed, ancient share certificates that had been tucked away in the portfolio on the page corresponding to the company…his grandfather on the Potter side had been very meticulously organised and the portfolio had come to him neat and orderly…the same could not be said of the Black portfolio, which was a mess of papers, certificates, bits and pieces, all jammed in haphazardly wherever there was a space. It had taken him forever to sort out and he was still finding the odd piece out of place. He definitely blamed Walburga Black for that, who had been the last person to have the portfolio before him.

The goblin examined every single certificate, adding up all the shares by hand to ensure that they matched the records, and then snapped them on the desk and laid them in a neat pile.

 

“You will receive in excess of seven hundred thousand Galleons. Did you want this sum added to your vault, or would you prefer to invest it in buying shares for another company?” The goblin asked, pushing over a piece of parchment with the exact sum of gold he was getting upon it.

 

Lucius had already told him the figure he was looking at, the amount of gold he was actually dealing with, but still, looking at the exact figure that he was going to receive still stunned him for a moment. It was more official now over Lucius telling him the possible sum he would receive when he sold his shares. This was tangible, concreate, and it was substantial.

 

“I would prefer it to go into my vault, if you would.” Harry said, once he was certain that his voice wouldn’t break midsentence. “Until such a time that I can personally see to any new investments. It will likely be after I’ve graduated, however.” He added.

 

“Very well.” The goblin said simply, taking out a stamp, dipping it into a large, round inkwell and then stamping the bottom of the parchment with the exact figure upon it.

 

At once the pile of share certificates vanished and a duplicate of the stamped parchment appeared on the desk. Narglock took the duplicate and Harry got the original and he tucked it into the folder that he had brought the share certificates to the bank in. This official document would be going back into the family portfolio on the page that detailed the company investment information.

 

“This concludes our meeting, Lord Potter-Black, we thank you for coming in this morning to conduct your business. The gold will be transferred to your vault immediately from the company vault and is ready to be spent immediately.”

 

Harry smiled then. “I think I’d rather keep it in the vault for a while, without spending it.” He laughed. “Thank you for your help and assistance, I am most pleased.”

 

Harry inclined his head and the goblin did so back to him. Harry left the office and Ironjaw was standing a respectful distance away, waiting to lead him back to the main part of the bank, so that he might leave, without the indignity of getting lost within the maze-like bank.

Overall his meeting hadn’t even taken him an hour. Feeling very accomplished and very, very happy to have done this on his own, and successfully he might add, he treated himself by going into Flourish and Blotts. He did curb himself to only a few books though, aware that his current ‘to-read’ list was astronomical and that his family would be expecting him back soon, and that they would only worry until he had arrived back home, safe and sound.

Everything was fine, he bought his selected books, handed over the coins from his purse, and he left the shop, heading for the Leaky Cauldron so he could floo back home. Unfortunately word had spread of him being in the Alley that morning and the news had reached a certain pair of red-headed twins.

 

“I don’t want any trouble.” He said as soon as they stepped into his path.

 

“You should have thought of that before you turned on our family and landed us with crippling debt.”

 

“Ron and Ginny destroyed everything I owned, right down to my clothes and my shoes, not once, but twice!” Harry said back firmly. “I let the first time slide, it was just homework, books and things the first time, inconsequential and materialistic, and my Father replaced them at his own expense, but the second time…” Harry shook his head in disgust. “They took everything they could lay their hands on, and they destroyed it all, my underwear, my quills, the new books I’d ordered to replace the first lot that had previously been destroyed, all my school uniform and casual clothes, my very trunk was found bobbing in the lake, water warped and useless. I still could have forgiven that, it was all still material possessions, easily replaced. It was the destruction of my Firebolt that truly got to me.”

 

Harry stared at the two red-heads in front of him for a moment as he tried to push away the hurt and upset that the incident still caused him. The memory of seeing the Firebolt in such a state of disrepair. He swallowed hard, heavily, and he took a deep breath.

 

“You know exactly what that broom means to me, and so did they when they stole it and tried their very best to destroy it too! They knew how attached to it I was, how much it meant to me and they tried to destroy it anyway! The only thing I had that was gifted to me by my dead Godfather! That could never be forgiven, because though it could be easily replaced, the sentimental value of it would be gone. Sirius touched that broom with his own hands, paid for it with his own money, it was a thoughtful, loving gift just for me, and I can never forgive them for trying to take that away from me! So yes, I have saddled your family with the price of the replacements, because whatever else you might think of me, they still destroyed all of my belongings, and like anyone else, they should pay for the damage that they caused with their own hands.”

 

“But…”

 

“No.” Harry cut in. “There are no buts here. I would have gladly taken up the financial burden of replacing everything yet again, as I did the first time, if only they had left my sentimental things alone. My blood family are dead, my Godfather is dead, do you have any idea of what that’s even like?” He demanded. “Knowing that all you have are photos of them, not even any memories? All I have of my Father is a cloak, all I have of Sirius is a broom, and I have _nothing_ from my Mother. Can you even imagine how tightly I cling to those sentimental things because of that? How painful it was to see one of those items in pieces because of what Ron and Ginny did to it? They did it to hurt me, knowing that it would rip right through me, and I agreed to send them the bill to hurt them in turn, to punish them, so that maybe they can feel even the _slightest_ bit of pain that I felt when I saw that Firebolt in that state! Do you understand?” He demanded.

 

“If you hadn’t turned on them in the first place…”

 

“Is that what they’re telling you?” Harry scoffed. “Of course that makes them seem like the injured party, but it didn’t happen like that.”

 

“You snubbed them on the train.”

 

“No, I actually didn’t. I greeted them happily, excitedly, asking them how their summers had been, like I always did, and they sneered and condemned me for an adoption that was pushed through by Lucius Malfoy and the Minister for Magic, an adoption that I didn’t know about until after it was finalised and didn’t even have a say in!” Harry said furiously. “They denied me the family I’d never had and told me that I deserved to stay in an abusive household just because it was the Malfoys who had adopted me first!”

 

“Abusive household?” The twins looked at one another.

 

“You ripped the bars from my window when I was just twelve!” Harry hissed. “What, did you think those bars were there to stop people from getting in? To keep me safe?” He demanded. “You knew I was locked in that room, because you picked the lock on my door to get my trunk from downstairs. You knew I wasn’t being fed or looked after properly, and then there were the newspaper articles about me being adopted because of neglect. That wasn’t a lie! Lucius found out about the abuse I was suffering through and he threw a fit, something about no child deserving to live in such a state and he adopted me immediately! It…” Harry swallowed heavily, trying to blink to control the tears that wanted to fall. “It was the kindest thing that anyone had ever done for me, permanently removing me from that horror, from the pain that I was suffering through daily. So yes, he’s my family now, because he was the only one who cared enough about me to adopt me into his own family, to remove me from that terrible situation. I was being hurt and abused, starved and beaten, and now I’m not. So I don’t care who it is, Voldemort himself could have adopted me, and I’d have been damn grateful for it, because anything, living with anyone, would have been better than going back there.” He finished. “Ron and Ginny, Hermione too, they all tried to tell me that it wasn’t that bad, that I was only being abused for a few weeks of the year and I should just put up with it, but I shouldn’t have had to! No one should have to just ‘put up’ with being abused, regardless of if it’s a few weeks or even a few measly minutes, it’s not right, I shouldn’t have had to deal with it or put up with it for any amount of time and of course the first offer to take me away from that permanently and I was going to jump at it! Believe it or not, the Malfoys love me, they truly love me and I’ve learnt to love them. They’re helping me, keeping me safe and they’re building me up to look after myself, like all parents should! Draco and I got off to a rocky start, but we’ve come to love one another as brothers too. I deserve this, I deserve a real family, and I won’t let anyone take that away from me!”

 

“Mum said…she said that you’d been forced into a marriage.” One twin tried weakly, looking at the ring on his finger.

 

“I’m not married yet.” Harry said, more calmly now. “I am engaged, but I chose Aceline for myself and despite the language barrier, we’re getting closer. If we didn’t get on, or one of us didn’t like the other, we could have ended the betrothal at any time and looked for other partners that we liked more. I chose her, she likes me too and we are falling in love. That’s all anyone needs to know. We will be married in two years’ time, once she graduates the year after me, and I’m sure we’re going to be very happy. I am going to be a teacher, she wants to be a Healer, we’re likely going to be living in Grimmauld Place, which is currently being redecorated. I am perfectly fine and happy, but most of all, I have the family that I always wanted and needed. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve spent entirely too much time here already. I will not ever forgive Ron or Ginny or Hermione for what they did, I will not remove the debt and I want no further contact of any kind. I just wanted a family, to be happy, and I have that now.”

 

Harry pushed past the speechless twins and he made his way quickly to the Leaky Cauldron before he was accosted again. He clutched his bag of books closer and bit his lip hard, he just wanted to be left alone to live his life how he wanted to live it, with the family that he now had. Why was that so much to ask for?

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Fred and George Weasley were distracted for the rest of the morning, so for once they actually closed up shop for lunch and they flooed to the Burrow. Ron and Ginny were home for the summer, and the two of them had agreed to question them both on what had happened last year, on the train.

 

“Fred, George, this is a surprise.” Their Mum said, wiping her hands on her apron and coming to hug them both. She was smiling, but she had lost more weight and her face was gaunt and sunken. This debt was making her sick.

 

“We decided to come for a quick visit. Are Ron and Ginny here?”

 

“Ginny has a job in the town. She’s got a job as a waitress in the little café. Ron is home though, he should be up in his bedroom.”

 

The twins nodded and they moved off into the house, going to the attic to find their youngest brother. He was on his bed reading the comics that he loved so much. Fred moved to go forward, maybe to hit Ron upside the head, maybe to tear the comic from his hands, but George stopped him.

 

“What are you two doing here?” Ron asked.

 

“You mean why aren’t we working our arses off to pay for the debt that you brought onto this family?” Fred scathed.

 

“That was Harry’s fault!” Ron said immediately.

 

“No, it was yours and Ginny’s for destroying his stuff! What if someone came in here and destroyed all of your stuff? Would you accept it and pay for it yourself, or would you try and push those expenses onto the one who’d destroyed it? Harry was within his rights to pass the bill onto you and Ginny!”

 

“He could afford to replace…”

 

“You’re missing the point, Ron.” George said.

 

“He always was the most dense.” Fred added.

 

Ron went red and he stood up to face them better.

 

“If Harry hadn’t turned on us…”

 

“He didn’t though, did he?” Fred demanded.

 

“He greeted you normally on the train, all of you, and it was you and Ginny who turned on him, wasn’t it?”

 

“He’d been adopted by the Malfoys!” Ron raged. “Those poncey, stuck up, snobs! He was acting all normal, like it hadn’t happened or didn’t matter!”

 

“He was being abused at home.” Fred cut in harshly.

 

“So? He was only there for a few weeks every summer! He let himself get adopted by the Malfoys, he just accepted it and he was acting like nothing had even happened! He’s fraternising with the enemy!”

 

Fred and George just looked at one another, before looking back to their red faced brother.

 

“You truly think that Harry should have stayed in an abusive home?”

 

“It was only for a few weeks!” Ron bellowed. “Then he always came to us, or to Grimmauld Place.”

 

“That isn’t the point, he was being abused!” Fred shouted back. “Of course he’d prefer anything other than that, are you mad?!”

 

“It’s the Malfoys!” Ron shouted back. “Death Eaters, his enemy!”

 

“He’s not going to see it that way when he’s been abused, Ron. His enemy are those who were hurting him, and that’s not the Malfoy family. You need to stop looking at this through your eyes and see it through Harry’s instead. He’s been abused, and abused kids aren’t the best at making decisions. He would go to anyone who offered him a way out of the pain and fear and that’s exactly what he’s done. The Malfoys offered him a way out, he’s taken it, as anyone would.”

 

“He’s the Boy-Who-Lived! He’s supposed to help us defeat you-know-who, not cry about a few weeks living with the Muggles and run off to you-know-who’s biggest followers!”

 

“Harry isn’t seeing it like that, Ron, you’re too young to understand what’s happening here.”

 

“Or too stupid.” Fred put in.

 

“We should leave this here. We have what we came for.” George said. “We need to get back to the shop.”

 

Fred nodded his agreement and he followed George from the attic room, but he turned to his brother at the door. “Get a job, Ron. Help us pay off the debt that you saddled us with. Ginny’s doing her bit, you need a job by the end of the week, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

 

He heard Ron throw something at the door behind his back, but Fred didn’t care. He’d had enough of Ron’s theatrics for one day and he now blamed Ron and Ginny more than he had before for this situation, if they’d just been calmer towards Harry, if they had tried to understand his situation a little more, from his perspective, then perhaps none of this would have happened and Harry and Ron might still be friends and this debt wouldn’t be hanging over them.

He needed to speak to George, they needed to seek out Charlie and Bill and let them know what had actually happened, as they had all blamed Harry for this situation, when it was completely Ron and Ginny’s fault for telling him that he needed to continue living in an abusive home and that he didn’t deserve a family, of course that would have driven Harry away from them and further into the arms of the Malfoys.

How they could have been so cruel and unconcerned about their friend, he didn’t even know. If Lee had approached him and George and confided to them that he was being hurt and abused at home they wouldn’t have even hesitated to support him in whatever he wanted to do. Perhaps being adopted by the Malfoys was a bit much, but as Harry had explained, it hadn’t been his choice and he’d had no say in the adoption, the Ministry had happily handed his custody over to Lucius Malfoy, so really, could Harry even be blamed for that?

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

 

Harry arrived home with no further issue and he breathed out in relief as the familiar sight and scent of home hit him. He immediately went to his bedroom to drop off his bag of books and his folder, putting the latter away safe in the Potter family portfolio, where it belonged, and then he went to seek out Rabastan. Harry found him talking softly in the drawing room with Xerxes, Rodolphus, Narcissa and Draco, who looked to be doing homework.

 

“There you are, you took your time.” Draco pointed out, very quickly abandoning the summer work.

 

“I couldn’t help going to buy some books.” Harry explained, not willing to bring up the little tiff with the Weasley twins.

 

“I knew it.” Xerxes laughed. “I told you he’d have to slip into the bookshop before he came home. How many books did you end up buying?”

 

Harry smiled and he sat beside Rabastan and snuggled in, kicking off his shoes automatically so he didn’t get a telling off for putting them on the settee.

 

“Only four. I managed to curb myself with a time limit.” He explained with a cheeky grin. “And a reminder of just how many I still have to read.”

 

“How did the meeting go?” Rabastan asked him. “You seem to be in good spirits, but I can’t tell if that’s from the meeting going well or the spree in Flourish and Blotts.” He joked.

 

“It was fairly straight forward, all very easy. It was just done, as soon as I asked for it.” Harry said happily. “I knew you were just scaring me with those stories and all those alternate scenario practice conversations.”

 

The adults all looked at one another, as if expressing doubts.

 

“They weren’t just stories, were they?” He asked.

 

“No.” Xerxes said seriously. “Are you saying that they didn’t even question you as to why you were pulling out of this company completely and selling all of your shares?”

 

“No. I wasn’t even asked to give an excuse. I said I wanted to sell all of my shares and pull out of my investment in this particular company and that’s exactly what happened. I got exactly seven hundred and two thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one Galleons, there was a remainder of four Sickles and fifteen Knuts too, but I am now over seven hundred thousand Galleons richer. Rabastan, my love, do you fancy an extravagant, exotic holiday with me?” He teased.

 

“Your parents would never allow it without a chaperone.” Rabastan teased back.

 

“We could be persuaded, if particular measures were put into place as a safe guard. Harry will be seventeen in July, a legal adult, he can be trusted to have a small break away from our constant supervision.” Narcissa said. “We trust him to behave in the manner that we expect of him.”

 

Harry looked to her, his beautiful emerald eyes very wide. “Really?” He said, his voice high with child-like excitement. “Please, Mother! We’ll behave, I promise! I’ve never been on a holiday before. Oh, where should we go?” He asked Rabastan, his excitement now palpable as he sat up on his knees, almost bouncing in his excitement and happiness.

 

“You’ve never been on holiday?” Draco asked, aghast.

 

Harry’s face darkened and his shoulders slumped. “Draco, those people begrudged me food, clothes and my own room, they kept me in a cupboard. Of course they never took me on holiday with them, they always left me behind and then rubbed my nose in it when they got back. I’ve never left the country before and if it wasn’t for Hogwarts, I’d have never even left England before.”

 

There was silence and Harry slumped in his seat and turned to hide himself in Rabastan, very embarrassed and ashamed now, he felt like the freak that Vernon and Petunia had always accused him of being.

 

“Excuse me.” He said tenuously, jumping up and walking very quickly away.

 

“No, you are not excused.” Narcissa told him sternly, but Harry didn’t listen and he kept walking away, then running the moment he was out of the room.

 

He shut himself in his bed suite and he sat in his living room, breathing deeply to control the urge to cry. Every time something happened to make him even remotely happy, he was brought crashing down again with a harsh reminder that he wasn’t normal. He was trying so hard, but nothing he did was working, he couldn’t paste over the cracks in his life and pretend that they hadn’t happened in the first place, because things like this just revealed those cracks, exposed them in stark contrast. He wasn’t normal, maybe it was time to stop pretending that he was.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! I hope you’re all enjoying your day with whomever, or whatever, you have decided to spend it with. But, this chapter is for you all, whether single or snuggled in love.
> 
>  
> 
> I think that this was all, lovelies. We’ve started our month of The Black Heir now, so next week we’ll have another chapter for this fic, but until then, lovelies,
> 
> StarLight Massacre. X


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